


Sailing the Dark Ship

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, Explicit Language, Hogwarts Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-20
Updated: 2007-01-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 114,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A week of detention bring Draco and Ginny closer together, and against all odds, an unlikely friendship emerges. But what will happen when their bond is tested and they both have to face the things they fear most?





	1. A Most Unlikely Detention

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

**Sailing the Dark Ship** : A Draco and Ginny Story  
  
Summary: A week of detention bring Draco and Ginny closer together, and against all odds, an unlikely friendship emerges. But what will happen when their bond is tested and they both have to face the things they fear most?  
  
Written By: KJCP  
  
HBP Spoilers  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
 **Chapter One: A Most Unlikely Detention**  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
Ginny sat in the library, her Muggle Studies book opened in front of her. Her eyes scanned over the words, but she wasn't absorbing any of it. The sky was so dark outside that it was almost black. The clouds were grey and heavy, looking as though they might break at any moment, which, in turn, made the outside air moist. In the far distance, the crackling sound of thunder could be heard every few minutes. The nasty weather outside made it the perfect day to study and work on essays so the library was filled with students.  
  
'Can I sit?'  
  
Ginny looked up. Hermione stood next to the table with a stack of books in her arms. Her hair was as wild as ever, the humidity outside making it frizz more than usual, and a quill stuck out behind her ear. Since it was Sunday, Hermione had on a light pink Muggle sweatshirt with a Muggle brand named labelled across the chest in big letters. Her jeans were faded and fit her very well. Ginny wondered if Ron had noticed how well Hermione's jeans fit. He probably had.  
  
'Sure.'  
  
Hermione dropped her books on the table and sat down across from Ginny. 'I've been trying to find out what's wrong with Harry.' She sighed. 'All these books and _nothing_.'  
  
'Is that why you've been spending so much time in the library?'  
  
Hermione nodded. 'Yes, you noticed?'  
  
'Ron noticed. He was raving like a madman in the common room the other morning,' said Ginny. 'He doesn't see you anymore.'  
  
'He sees plenty of me.' Hermione flipped through one of her very-thick books. 'Why does he need to see more of me?'  
  
'Because he's in love with you, probably.'  
  
Hermione snorted. 'Right.'  
  
'You know it's true. Don't pretend that I haven't see you two hold hands.'  
  
Hermione blushed. 'Well, we're not-'  
  
'What? Together officially?' Ginny rolled her eyes. 'For all intensive purposes, you two are together. No one else has touched you, have they? Or tried?'  
  
Hermione didn't answer.  
  
'It'll happen, he'll as you out - oh, speak of the devil now.'  
  
Hermione didn't look up as Ron sat down next to her. He had his Potions book in his hand and he looked at Hermione as he opened it. She was engrossed in whatever book was in front of her and seemed completely unaware of Ron. He sighed loudly and turned to his sister.  
  
'What's that? In your hand?'  
  
'A ball point pen?' said Ginny. 'It's what Muggles use to write with, so that's what my professor makes us use. Why?'  
  
Ron shrugged. 'I dunno.' He looked at Hermione again. 'What're you working on?'  
  
'Hmm?' Hermione didn't glance up from her books.  
  
'Hermione?'  
  
'Hmmm?'  
  
'I don't think she's listening,' said Ginny. 'I think I've studied myself out for the day. I'll see you back in the common room.' As Ginny picked up her books, she stood up and was bumped from the side. She tripped over the leg of her chair as she tried to right herself, and fell to the floor. 'Ouch!' she cried out. Looking up, she saw that Draco Malfoy had knocked her over and Ron had jumped to his feet.  
  
'Apologise to her!' he cried.  
  
Malfoy smirked. 'Yeah right. I do not apologise to Mudblood lovers.'  
  
'Take that back!' Ron shouted.  
  
The already quiet library went completely silent. Ginny picked herself off the floor and narrowed her eyes at Malfoy. He was staring at her brother and Hermione, who had also got up, with hatred-filled eyes. Ohh, _where_ was Madam Pince?  
  
Malfoy snorted.  
  
'I _said_ , take it back!'  
  
'Ron, it's all right,' said Ginny. 'Just let it drop.' She looked at Malfoy. 'I wouldn't want the apology of a babbling ferret anyway.'  
  
Ron and Hermione both laughed.  
  
'You think your words hurt me? I don't take the words of a slag seriously.'  
  
Ron launched himself across the table at Malfoy. He grabbed the other boy by the collar and they both crashed into the bookshelf behind them. Ron punched Malfoy in the mouth; Ginny yelped. She had to do something! So, she grabbed Ron's shirt to pull him off Malfoy, just as Malfoy's fist came up. As Ginny pulled at Ron, Malfoy's fist connected with her jaw. A sharp pain shot through her jaw and her eyes blurred.  
  
'You hit my sister you fucking git!'  
  
'I was aiming for _you_ ,' spat Malfoy, spraying a bit of a blood as he talked, 'not the baby Weasel.'  
  
Ginny's vision cleared as the pain went from sharp to dull. Ron aimed for Malfoy again, but Ginny reached for him and successfully pulled him away. Malfoy scrambled up and pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron.  
  
Ginny was quicker.  
  
' _Silencio_!' she cried and Malfoy's mouth moved, but no sound came out.  
  
Just then, Professor McGonagall came running into the library, anger flashing in her eyes. Slughorn followed in her wake.  
  
'Students coming to tell me a fight broke out in the library,' she panted. 'In the _library_. I should've known it would involve the two of you. Mr Malfoy, what happened.' It didn't sound like a question.  
  
Malfoy opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  
  
McGonagall rolled her eyes. 'Who hexed you?'  
  
'I did,' said Ginny meekly.  
  
'Miss Weasley? Undo it, please.'  
  
Ginny waved her wand at Malfoy.  
  
'Now, Mr Malfoy, let's hear it.'  
  
Malfoy shrugged. 'I don't know.'  
  
'He insulted Hermione,' said Ron. 'Er, and my sister.'  
  
Slughorn arched an eyebrow. 'So you decided to make one another student bleed?'  
  
At that, Malfoy's hand flew to his mouth where he fingered his lips. When he withdrew his hand, Ginny could plainly see several drops of blood on Malfoy's fingertips. Ron must have hit him really hard.  
  
'Detention. All of you. Mr Weasley, I'm sure Argus Filch could use some help dusting the trophy room again around eight o'clock. And Miss Weasley, why don't you and Mr Malfoy go see Professor Slughorn tonight. Madam Pomfrey needs her medicine cupboards refilled and I'm sure Professor Slughorn would rather have someone else do the job. And you'll do the job until it's finished.'  
  
'Dungeon number four, eight-thirty,' said Slughorn. 'And you best get up to the hospital wing, Mr Malfoy.'  
  
Malfoy stalked past Ginny without looking at her, but she couldn't help but watch him walk away. His blonde hair fell into his eyes and he smooth his back with his clean hand. His black trousers made a slight swish sound as he walked, his button-down shirt tucked neatly into his waistband. He seemed so pale and thin lately - lifeless.  
  
'Gin?'  
  
Ginny whirled around. Her brother had walked over to her and had his hands on her shoulders. Hermione walked up next to him. They were both were looking at her with concern in their eyes.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Your jaw,' said Hermione. 'It's all red. It's going to bruise.'  
  
Ginny raised a hand to her jaw; it hurt. She shrugged. 'Nothing's broken. I'll be fine. But Ron? Next time you want to beat someone up for us? Don't. We have wands. We can take care of ourselves.'  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
Ginny sat at one of the desks in Dungeon Four, waiting for Malfoy. It was cold in the dungeons, water dripped down the stone walls and made small puddles in the corners of the classrooms. Slughorn had written a set of instructions for several potions on the blackboard before retreating to his quarters to do... well, to do Merlin knows what.  
  
'You're late,' said Ginny as Malfoy walked into the dungeon. His lip was completely healed, whereas Ginny knew her jaw was blue and still a bit swollen. Hermione had looked up a healing spell that took away all the pain, but did nothing for the bruise.  
  
Malfoy shrugged. 'Couldn't start without me?'  
  
'Slughorn said it wouldn't be fair if I didn't wait for you.' She grinned. 'Think he still fancies me a powerful witch - wants to keep me in his good graces in case I become largely successful after I leave Hogwarts.'  
  
'If there's even a Hogwarts next year.'  
  
Ginny frowned. It was true. Hogwarts was _barely_ open this year; only a fourth of the students had returned since the fiasco of the end of last year.  
  
Malfoy looked up at the board. Ginny watched as he gathered ingredients for the potions and spread them out over the tops of several desks. He took his wand and lit a small fire underneath his cauldron.  
  
'Well, stop staring and get over here. If you chop up all the herbs, I'll add them to the potions.'  
  
'I have to do all the chopping?'  
  
'Well, I've got top marks in Potions. Do you?'  
  
Ginny frowned. 'No.'  
  
'Well, then I should be the one to add in the ingredients since I'm the one who knows what he's doing.' Malfoy turned back to the cauldron. He pointed to a thick bouquet of flowers tied with a string. Ginny glanced at them. He was indicating that he wanted her to chop them up, so she did. The silence dragged on through eight different herbs and plants and fifty minutes. The quiet of the dungeon was enough to drive her mad, but Ginny was stubborn. She wouldn't break the silence.  
  
'Er,' said Malfoy, 'did I do that to your jaw?'  
  
Ginny stopped chopping and turned her body so that she was facing Draco. They were on the same side of the desk, Malfoy divvying up the ingredients to the potions in perfect piles ready to be added, in an old black jumper, already stained with sap from the branch of Elder Tree, and a pair of Muggle blue jeans kept up with a black belt. He must have changed out of his usually nice clothes, knowing that he would get dirty from potion ingredients and sweaty from the heat of the fire. Even in a room filled with steam and heat, Malfoy managed to look put-together and perfect. Ginny knew she must look a sight. She'd pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail halfway through the detention thus far and beads of sweat had formed at her temples. Her blue t-shirt had holes in the elbows and sap on the sleeves and had come untucked from her jeans. It wasn't only her ponytail that was sloppy; her whole self looked that way. And Malfoy looked... so...  
  
'Yes,' said Ginny, answering Malfoy's question.  
  
'I was aiming for that git you call a brother.'  
  
Ginny nodded. She refused to break eye contact with the great sod in front of her. His eyes looked cold and vacant, as if the boy in front of her was living, but not really alive.  
  
'Well, you missed. Not that I expect anything more from a Malfoy. I'm sure you were brought up that hitting a girl is all right.'  
  
Malfoy stopped stirring the potion. 'I'm not apologising,' he said.  
  
'I wouldn't expect you to.'  
  
'But I don't hit girls.' He sniggered. 'Not on purpose, anyway.'  
  
'What?' breathed Ginny.  
  
'Look,' said Malfoy, beginning to stir again, 'I don't like you or your family, but I don't hit girls. Even if a female _Muggle_ was hacking me off I wouldn't hit her. Some things do not make you dignified.'  
  
'Ah,' said Ginny, 'so it's all about appearances.'  
  
Malfoy clicked it tongue. 'As if you understand anything about appearances.'  
  
'Can I ask you a question?'  
  
'No.'  
  
Ginny ignored his answer and continued, 'If you think that hitting a girl is wrong, then why are you a Death Eater?'  
  
'I'm not a Death Eater,' said Malfoy very slowly.  
  
'Not yet, anyway. I know you have to be seventeen for that, so you're on your way to becoming one. Your father is one.'  
  
'Yes, well, my father is a lot of things. Death Eater just happens to be on the list.' Ever since his father had been arrested for being a Death Eater and had since escaped, Malfoy hadn't been shy about admitting the fact that Lucius was an avid follower of Voldemort; everyone in the wizarding world already knew anyway.  
  
Ginny tapped her foot against the stone floor. 'Well?'  
  
'Well what?'  
  
'Death Eaters use the Killing and Cruciatus Curse on women all the time.'  
  
'Aye,' said Malfoy. 'Death Eaters curse everyone. I'd curse Granger and her rabbit teeth if it wouldn't get me stuck in detention when I have far better things to do.'  
  
'But using the Cruciatus Curse... isn't that a bit like hitting them? You're still abusing them one way or another.'  
  
Malfoy shrugged, but didn't verbalise an answer.  
  
'Are you going to be a Death Eater once you're seventeen?'  
  
'I _am_ seventeen, but I don't believe that is any of your business, baby Weasel. You talk a lot. I'm sure you drive your friends mad with it.'  
  
'I don't understand the Death Eaters,' said Ginny, looking up at the blackboard, but not really reading any of the instructions. 'I mean, you all hate Muggles and Mudbloods-'  
  
'Hate is the wrong word,' said Malfoy. 'There's a hierarchy that you don't seem to understand. Purebloods are simply better than Muggles or any half-breed because half-breeds have tainted blood. Even you are better than a common garden worm, yeah? Yet, they're slimy creatures that make girls scream. Still, do you _hate_ them?'  
  
'No. But I thought you hated Muggles and the like?'  
  
'As I said, hate is the wrong word. They don't belong in the same ranks as purebloods. We've worked very hard to keep ourselves pure. To keep magic within the family. What good would the world be if everyone could do magic? There would be no separation. Everyone would be filthy.'  
  
Ginny watched him add in the sap of Elder Tree, which was used in several healing potions. He wouldn't hit a girl and yet he wanted to join the ranks of Death Eaters who cursed and tortured women for sport. Well, he _did_ want to join the ranks of Death Eaters, didn't he? Didn't Harry say last year that Malfoy had the Dark Mark on his arm?  
  
Malfoy interrupted her thoughts as he said, 'In case you hadn't noticed, I haven't raised my wand to Granger in two years unless it's in self-defence. But that's more because I don't want to dirty-up my hands.'  
  
'You are so infuriating,' said Ginny. 'How can you say such things when you're precious Dark Lord is a Mudblood himself?'  
  
Malfoy dropped the spoon he had been using to stir the cauldron. He spun around and looked at Ginny square in the eye. 'You're full of shit.'  
  
'I am not. I know the Dark Lord.'  
  
'I'm sure.'  
  
'It's true. I met him when I was eleven. He's very charismatic. He tried to possess me and when he did, we shared a link to one another. I know his secrets. He lived in an orphanage when he was a kid because his Muggle father abandoned him. It's the reason he hates Muggles.'  
  
'The Dark Lord is not a Mudblood.'  
  
'Not a Mudblood? Well, all right, but he _is_ a half-blood.'  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
Draco's breath hitched. This little baby Weasel surely had no idea what she was talking about. This slag of Hogwarts. He hadn't meant to hit her. Several years ago, he wouldn't have cared. Slap her, kick her, who gives a shit? But then he walked in on his father backhanding his mother. Draco heard her beg him to allow Draco to come home over the Christmas holiday, but his father demurred because of some activity going on with the Dark Lord. When his mother continued to plead, Draco went into the room just as his father took his hand to her face.  
  
She looked broken... but Draco realised he had seen that look on her before. Her eyes sad and wide, blinking wildly to keep back tears. How long had this gone on? Draco was almost a man, now. He was as tall as his father and surely as strong. He should have protected her. She gave him twice the love he needed to make up for the lack of attention from his father. And she should never have to be struck. Ever.  
  
Since then, Draco kept his hands and his wand to himself. He never passed up the chance to do something to Potty or the Weasel, but he only pointed his wand at Granger when she pointed her wand at him first.  
  
Still, he hadn't meant to punch the baby Weasel and now she had a large bruise on her face because of him. He wasn't going to apologise. After all, he was aiming for her stupid git of a brother. Then she had to start going on about the Dark Lord and how he was Muggle. What shite...  
  
Right?  
  
'The Dark Lord is not a Mudblood.'  
  
'Not a Mudblood? Well, all right, but he _is_ a half-blood.'  
  
'I don't believe you.'  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'Believe what you like, but how many times have _you_ met him?'  
  
Draco opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it. Well, of course. His father told him all about how he'd given her the diary. Draco could hardly believe that the baby Weasel had set the Basilisk on the school. Heir of Slytherin indeed. And by some bizarre happenchance, _no one_ had died. Although, Granger had come close. Draco had been relieved though that she'd ended up all right - not because he cared, but because he enjoyed bantering with her and watching her face twist up with hurt as he called her a Mudblood. He didn't get quite the same satisfaction calling anyone else a Mudblood as he did her.  
  
'You're just a poor witch with tattered clothes. What do you know anyway? Your father is a disgrace amongst wizards. I hardly believe you are privy to as much knowledge about the Dark Lord as I am.'  
  
Ginny smiled. What was wrong with her? Draco hadn't intended on making her smile. He wanted her to get hacked off. He wanted her to scream or rant or something. But definitely not smile.  
  
'What?'  
  
She shrugged. 'I feel sorry for you, that's all.'  
  
'Sorry for me? My family's wealthy and powerful and I'm in the top of my class. What are you?'  
  
Ginny picked up another branch of Elder Tree and drained the sap into a large bowl. 'I don't have to be defined by my family,' she said. 'I find it rather sad that you have to constantly reaffirm who you are by who your family is. I'm not at the top of my class, but I don't really work at it. I'm okay with being average in school. But are you _really_ the top in your class? Perhaps the top student of Slytherin? I don't really see how you could be top of class... didn't you get detention from several teachers last term for not doing your homework? And anyway, my family is wonderful, even if they're poor. Each of my brothers has a very, very unique gift that makes them stand out. They don't have to use the Weasley name to be known in the wizarding world. You are only defined by being a Malfoy.'  
  
'It's disgusting that you're even allowed to talk to me this way.'  
  
'Why? I'm a pureblood,' said Ginny, standing up straight. 'Technically, we're equals.'  
  
Draco went back to stirring the contents of the cauldron. Two minutes and thirty four seconds later, their first potion was finished. He tapped his wand against the cauldron, sending its contents to several large flasks with labels. They were to go to Madam Pomfrey. One potion down and seven to go. They would never get them all done before breakfast.  
  
'And you're forgiven.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'For hitting me. I forgive you.'  
  
Draco felt his eyes narrow in confusion. He'd never taken any notice to the baby Weasel, but now that's all he could focus on. She was so different from her brother. When had that happened? All he really could remember about her was how she used to drool over Potter and follow him and her brother around like an abused puppy. They never paid much mind to her. That wasn't the girl standing in the dungeon with him at all. This girl was completely different.  
  
'Is this Milkmead?' she asked from across the room, picking up a white flower.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
'I used this once in a bouquet that I gave Fleur - remember her from the Triwizard Tournament? She began dating my eldest brother and none of us liked her at all.'  
  
Draco blinked.  
  
Ginny laughed to herself. 'I pretended that I didn't know Milkmead makes you break out in blue hives. Bill was rather upset, Fleur cried, but the rest of us got a good laugh. We thought she was only dating him because he's good-looking... or, er, was good-looking, but apparently she really loves him. Imagine.'  
  
'Why are you telling me this?' asked Draco.  
  
'I don't like silence. It makes me go mad. It's only me and Ron left in the house now and he visited Harry and Hermione over summer holiday. Of course I went, too, but not the entire time... I talked or sang to myself because otherwise things were too quiet in the house.'  
  
'You sound barmy.'  
  
'I probably am.'  
  
Just then, Slughorn walked into the dungeon. He looked at them; his fat face had a calculating look about it.  
  
'How many potions have you completed?' he asked.  
  
'Just one,' said Ginny.  
  
'Only one? You can do better than that, Draco,' said Slughorn. 'Do another one tonight and finish up the rest tomorrow after dinner. I don't want to keep you here all night. McGonagall is very insistent that you finish up these potions for me and Poppy as your punishment. Hurry it up, now!'  
  
'But I have Quidditch practise tomorrow night,' said Ginny.  
  
'That's too bad,' said Slughorn, 'but my hands are tied. What potion is next?' He looked at the board. 'Ah, Sleep Draught. Yes, don't try to hurry through that one. One wrong ingredient and students might not wake up from their sleep.'  
  
'Ah,' said Draco once Slughorn had left, 'we'll label our batch of Sleep Draught " _Gryffindor_ " just to be safe.' His eyes slid over to Ginny where she stood looking at the blackboard.  
  
'Sleep Draught? That'll take at least three hours to make. We won't get out of here until after midnight.'  
  
'Ah, yes and you definitely all the beauty sleep you can get,' said Draco.  
  
She didn't take the bait. What the fuck? _I thought all Weasleys had tempers!_ Draco thought. _She should be yelling at me, threatening to hex me._  
  
'I was more thinking that I need to finish my Muggle Studies essay. That's what I was doing in the library before I got punched in the face.'  
  
'What a wasteful subject.'  
  
'It's fascinating. Muggles are so very different from us. The things they've learned how to do without magic. I respect their effort.'  
  
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What a flake. She was nothing but a bit of red fluff.  
  
'It's too bad you hate everyone,' babbled Ginny. 'I'm sure you could put all that energy into something else. Too much time is wasted on hate.'  
  
'I said before, hate is the wrong word.'  
  
'Well, your father hates.' Ginny turned and handed him a leafy herb chopped up very fine.  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'He doesn't really have a right to. What does he have? Money? Money is nothing.'  
  
'Money is everything.'  
  
'Money can't buy you family or comfort or love.'  
  
'Who needs those things? I have everything I want and I'm happy.'  
  
Ginny stopped and turned. Draco's stomach flipped and churned. He refused to meet her gaze. He sprinkled the herb she'd handed him in the cauldron.  
  
'You're not happy. I can see it in your eyes.'  
  
Draco finally looked up at her. What a slag. Why was he even listening to her? What did she know?  
  
'They're lifeless. Don't you live for anything, Malfoy?'  
  
'I live for plenty. Now shut up and hand me that sap,' he barked.  
  
Ginny didn't move. 'I'm not scared of you.'  
  
'All right.' He had no idea why she was telling him this.  
  
'And since I'm not scared of you, I'm going to tell you exactly what I think. When I was eleven I was terrified for the entire year and for every term after that I kept on being scared until I realised it was such a useless emotion and I quit fretting over everything. And since I'm not scared, I'm going to tell you that you have a mind of your own and you're very smart - or so I've heard. At least in Potions, anyway. Every time you open your mouth it's like a bunch of word vomit escapes. Stop vocalising everything that your father has told you and start believing in what _you_ believe in.'  
  
'You shouldn't be allowed to talk to me this way.'  
  
'Shouldn't I? Deep down, I don't think you really want to be a Death Eater. They curse women and children and from what little you've shown of true self tonight, I know you think that's wrong - perhaps you have some dignity after all. If you want to be happy, you shouldn't listen to anyone else but yourself.'  
  
'You don't know what you're talking about.'  
  
'Oh, Malfoy,' sighed Ginny.  
  
'Malfoy is my father,' said Draco, not knowing why he was saying it. 'Only people in this dreadful school call me Malfoy.'  
  
'Do you want me to call you Draco instead?'  
  
Draco didn't answer. Baby Weasel should not be calling him anything. She should not even be talking to him. He turned back to the cauldron. Fuck this, he didn't want to think about the girl standing next to him What a waste of space. Mudblood lover. Not worth his time or his thoughts.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
'How was detention?' cooed Pansy at the breakfast table.  
  
'Get off me,' snapped Draco, shrugging her off his shoulder. 'It was fine. All I did was make potions.'  
  
'You poor thing,' said Pansy. 'I'm sorry you had to do that. I tried waiting up in the common room for you, but I got too tired and went to bed. Slughorn gave you detention? I cannot believe it.'  
  
'McGonagall gave it to me. That old, wrinkly bat.'  
  
'You didn't deserve it.'  
  
Draco snorted and shrugged away from Pansy's grip again. 'Of course not.'  
  
'Did you have to serve it with that awful Weasley girl? She's so plain.'  
  
Draco let out a short laugh. For someone who looked like a smashed cow, Pansy certainly had a lot to say about other people being plain or unattractive. And the baby Weasel wasn't ugly... Draco shook himself. He should not be having thoughts like this. Better Ginny Weasley than Granger. At least Ginny was pureblood. Of course, Draco _had_ dated Pansy in the past... sort of. He let her ooh and ah over him to gain snogging privileges. He began to ignore her, though, halfway through sixth-year; she was too submissive.  
  
'Are you listening to me?'  
  
'If you have to ask, then you have your answer. I'm going back to get my books. I'll see you in Herbology.'  
  
Draco got up from the Slytherin table and walked out of the Great Hall. He adjusted his green and silver tie before shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoes made soft, padding noises as he went down through the winding corridors to the dungeons.  
  
'Salazar,' he said to the portrait covering the doorway to the Slytherin common room. He walked in and looked around. It was empty but for one third-year doing his homework at a table near the fireplace. Everything in the common room was green, dark, and cold. The tables were long with sharp edges. The sofa was thick and made of green leather. The floor was stone and mostly exposed, but for a few corners where green carpets sat. For five and a half years he had loved this room. He had loved his entire house. His dormitory with the velvet drapes surrounding his bed with the silk sheets his mother had sent him from home. His desk with a serpent carved into the back of his chair.  
  
Draco sighed. Somewhere in the middle of sixth year he began to tire of all these things. Nothing ever changed. It always stayed cold in the dungeons and he never seemed to be able to cast enough warming charms on his blankets to stay warm throughout the night.  
  
 _Fuck_ , he thought to himself. _Ginny was right._ He wasn't happy. He was discontent. Even if he was home at Malfoy Mansion he wouldn't be happy. He had no idea what _would_ make him happy, but it definitely wasn't in the Slytherin common room. With another sigh, Draco climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory. He went into the room where the seventh-years lived.  
  
'You missed breakfast,' said Draco upon entering. Blaise was buttoning up his uniform shirt slowly. Large bags hung underneath his eyes and he looked as physically tired as Draco felt emotionally.  
  
'Yeah. I was up all night finishing that essay for McGonagall. She's a right old hag when it comes to marking our essays. NEWT level Transfiguration and all that rot. When am I ever going to need to know how to transfigure my owl into a settee, I ask you!'  
  
Draco smirked. 'I don't know. Never.'  
  
'Exactly.'  
  
'I finished the essay last week.'  
  
'Bully for you.'  
  
'You could have got it done sooner if you didn't spend all your time gallivanting around with Daphne.'  
  
'But she gives such great head.'  
  
Draco didn't respond. He gathered up his books from his desk and headed back out the door. Blaise was right behind him.  
  
'You know, I'm surprised you haven't taken Pansy up on any of her offers.'  
  
'What makes you think I haven't?'  
  
'Pansy and Daphne share a room,' said Blaise. 'She told Daphne she thinks you're a fairy.'  
  
'Oh, _really_?' Draco stopped on one of the stairs and turned around and looked at Blaise. 'I am _not_ a fairy and I'm sure you know that.'  
  
'Oh, I know,' said Blaise, 'but Pansy doesn't.'  
  
'She looks like a cow. I went to the Yule Ball with her just to shut her up and now she thinks I want to get into her pants. I don't want to be anywhere near her knickers. The thought sickens me.'  
  
'It doesn't matter what she looks like. If you'd just take her up on her offer you wouldn't have to walk around the halls of Hogwarts a virgin.'  
  
'Fuck off,' said Draco. 'What do _you_ know about my virginity? I'm through with this conversation.'  
  
Draco turned his back to Blaise and continued down the stairs. He didn't like Blaise Zabini in the least. However, ever since Draco had been unable to kill Dumbledore last year, Nott had begun to avoid him. Snape had told the Dark Lord that he had _forced_ Draco not to kill the Headmaster. It was imperative that someone remain inside Hogwarts, to spy, and Snape knew he would not be able to take up post as professor the next year. The Dark Lord seemed somewhat satisfied with this answer and sent Draco back to Hogwarts at the beginning of the new term. Still, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle seemed a bit hesitant around Draco - no doubt their fathers, dim-witted as they were - had vocalised to their sons their own suspicions about Draco's abilities to remain within the Death Eater ranks.  
  
Blaise, however, was not a part of the Death Eaters, nor was his mother. They were, of course, pureblood, but not the least bit interested in the Dark Lord. So, somehow, Draco found it in himself to tolerate Blaise - just to have some semblance of a real friend at Hogwarts... as pathetic as that made him feel.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
Ginny practically fell asleep during her classes. She ended up staying in the dungeons until almost one o'clock before retreating back to Gryffindor Tower. Once she had changed into her pyjamas and got into bed, she couldn't fall asleep. Her first few years at Hogwarts she'd spent her time avoiding Colin Creevey's advances while she lusted after Harry. Then, once Colin had got the hint she was never going to date him, he left her alone and she began dating Michael Corner. It felt good to date someone who didn't remind her of Harry. And when Harry began seeing Cho, Ginny didn't feel jealous. After all, Harry spent every summer with her, one way or another, and by the time her fourth year was over, they'd grown really close.  
  
After Dean had ended things - well, in truth she had seen it coming for several weeks - Harry had comforted her. She fancied the idea of getting together with Harry, but after several feeble attempts at being together, Harry had ended things. Over the summer and beginning of the new term, Ginny had tried to talk him into getting back together, but Harry was stubbornly noble and refused - for her own safety. What rubbish.  
  
Ron had done his part; he'd got angry with Harry, but that only lasted all of five minutes. Ron's own lack of advancement with Hermione seemed to show that he felt similarly. They were both so daft.  
  
Living with six brothers had taught Ginny to stand up for herself. She learned the finer points of practical jokes from the twins and how to be a fantastic Quidditch player from watching Charlie and Ron. They helped shape her into the person she was now... but they didn't prepare her for Malfoy.  
  
Ginny walked into dungeon four ready to work off the rest of her detention. There were still several more potions to make and Ginny already felt sleep deprived. Malfoy was there, in the same Muggle-looking jeans from the night before, but wearing a green sweatshirt.  
  
 _Always green or black_ , thought Ginny as she strode over to the desk where he was waiting. He was lean with sharp features and fair skin. He probably would have been brilliant-looking if he didn't always look so cold and pale lately. Ginny wondered how Malfoy would look if he laughed or smiled. She imagined his entire face would change.  
  
'You're late.'  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'I skipped dinner to take a nap and I overslept.'  
  
Malfoy didn't say anything. He simply stood up and used his wand to lit a fire underneath the cauldron.  
  
'Slughorn said that he won't have the ingredients to finish the rest of the potions until Friday night. We need to come back then and finish the last few drafts and draughts for Madam Pomfrey then, but he wants everything done by Saturday night.'  
  
Ginny watched Malfoy as he talked, even though his eyes never left the ingredients sitting on the desks. This time, there were several more herbs that needed to be chopped along with jars of pickled toad bowels and rat spleens. Ginny hoped she never had to go to the hospital wing and drink anything with toad bowels in it. She shuddered at the thought.  
  
Ginny set to work, starting with the herbs until they were chopped finely. Then, she took out the rat spleens and cut them into fourths. It was very important that each piece of spleen be the exact same size as all the others.  
  
'What you said last night,' said Malfoy slowly.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'About the Dark Lord...'  
  
Ginny stopped chopping up the rat spleens and looked at Malfoy. His palms were flat against the desktop and he was leaning heavily on his arms, his elbows locked. He appeared nervous and unsure.  
  
'You mean about him being half-Muggle?'  
  
Malfoy nodded.  
  
'What do you want to know?'  
  
'I went to the library because I thought you were full of shite. I told Slughorn I wanted to look up some potions in the Restricted Section so he signed me a note.'  
  
Ginny laughed. 'Ah, I've done that before. Not with Slughorn, though. Sprout never asks questions.'  
  
'Whatever. Anyway, there's nothing about the Dark Lord's past in any of the books. It seems as though he just appears during the seventies.'  
  
'That sounds about right. He was a prefect when he was at Hogwarts. I remember because I saw the badge on his robes. He was in Slytherin.'  
  
'He couldn't have been part Mudblood if he was in Slytherin,' said Malfoy, almost sounding triumphant.  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'The Sorting Hat wanted to put Harry into Slytherin. He told the hate he wanted to be in Gryffindor, so that's where he was put. _Anyway_ , his name was Tom Riddle back then. He had really long fingers and black hair and he was really smart. He started Hogwarts in the late thirties... before Dumbledore was Headmaster. His ancestor was Salazar Slytherin - Tom, I mean, not Dumbledore. _Not to mention_ ,' added Ginny, 'that Snape's father is a Muggle.'  
  
Malfoy seemed to pause at the mention of Snape being a half-blood, but he skipped over asking about him. 'How do you know this Tom Riddle fellow is even the Dark Lord?'  
  
Ginny went to the board and picked up a piece of white chalk. She wrote the words TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. With a flick of her wand, the letters rearranged themselves, as she had seen Tom do when he had taken her into the diary. When she turned around, Malfoy was staring dumbfounded at the board.  
  
'If you go to the library you can find Tom in several books, mostly the ones about previous school prefects. He grew up in an orphanage before he was taken to Hogwarts. He still had to go back, though, during the summer holidays.'  
  
'My father said you were possessed. You... opened the Chamber of Secrets... you could have killed half the school. How can you stand there and talk so freely about the Dark Lord?'  
  
'It wasn't my fault. I didn't purposely set the Basilisk on anyone. I would certainly never do something like that on purpose. I've been forgiven by my friends who were Petrified. I'm at peace with it. And I'm telling you because I hope you'll change your mind about him. He's not someone to be respected or followed.'  
  
'Not if he's a Mudblood, he's not.' Malfoy rubbed his eyes. He began working on the potions again.  
  
'So, are you going to switch sides? Since the Dark Lord isn't what you think he is?'  
  
'Don't be stupid. Fight for Muggles and Mudbloods? I don't care whether they live or die, although the less we have, the better.'  
  
'You can't mean that.'  
  
'Once, there was a time where wizards were in charge. Muggles respected them, lived under them, and followed the rules they set. Now, things have changed. We can't let the Muggles know magic exists. What rot. We should be in charge again. We should be ruling the world like we used to. Muggles used to _fear_ us. Can you imagine having that kind of power?' Malfoy paused. 'Well, I'm sure _you_ can't. You know nothing of money or power.'  
  
'What do _you_ know about power? You're a Hogwarts _student_ , for Merlin's sake!' Ginny sniggered and rolled her eyes. 'If you left school right now and tried to make it out in the real world, you'd barely be able to get a house-elf to do your bidding, let alone anyone else. You're so full of yourself. Your arrogance makes me want to vomit all over you.'  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
'You think that having people fear you puts you in power, but, really, it only makes you pathetic.'  
  
'I cannot _believe_ you are talking to me like that. Shut up.'  
  
'Besides,' continued Ginny, 'you're not even a Death Eater. How scary can you be?'  
  
'Not a Death Eater...' repeated Malfoy, an almost-amused tone to his voice.  
  
Ginny nodded. 'Well, let me know when the big initiation is so I'll know when I need to start being afraid of you.'  
  
'One letter to my father about your insolence and your whole family could be dead in a matter of days.'  
  
Ginny swallowed. She didn't think Malfoy would actually write his father, but her family was all a part of the Order of the Phoenix... they were in grave danger already. She handed Malfoy the cut up rat spleen.  
  
'I know you don't really care about what I have to say,' said Ginny, 'but if I found out that the wizard I was supposed to follow was half-Muggle, I wouldn't want to follow him. I'd lose respect for him... I'd think he was a hypocrite.'  
  
That was all that was said. The rest of the detention passed in silence.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
 **To Be Continued...**  
  
XXXXXXX  



	2. Happy Christmas Indeed

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Two: Happy Christmas Indeed**

XXXXXXX

Draco wanted to scream and punch a hole in the wall. He pretended not to know who Tom Riddle was, but he had looked up all the old Slytherin prefects in the library when he was a fifth-year. He wanted to know what kind of prefects his house had had in the past. Tom Riddle stood out. He was a top student, worked very hard, and stayed at Hogwarts during every Christmas holiday.

When the baby Weasel rearranged the letters on the blackboard to spell out I AM LORD VOLDEMORT, Draco felt his heart drop into his stomach. There was no way Ginny was clever enough to randomly think of something like that up. 

He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of catching him looking up Riddle in the library, but he was genuinely curious now. Was the Dark Lord really a half-blood? She was right; he didn't care what about she had to say, but he couldn't help but realising that she had a point. The Dark Lord was a hypocrite. He was the embodiment of everything Draco was supposed to hate... and yet he was supposed to take orders from him? What shite. What utter and complete shite.

Detention had lasted until midnight, where Draco had walked quickly to Slytherin and up to the dormitory. He could hear the distinctive snores of Crabbe and Goyle and resisted the urge to curse them both. He, Blaise, and Theodore had all asked the two giant baboons to use a Silencing Charm around their beds or on themselves so the rest of them wouldn't have to hear them snoring. Either they forgot, or they were crap at Silencing Charms. Whichever it was didn't help Draco any, as he had a terrible time falling asleep.

Once he was asleep, he had dreams... bizarre dreams of fighting his father, decapitating the Dark Lord (who appeared as a shadow in his dreams since he'd never actually seen his face), and watching Ginny Weasley dance in robes of Slytherin-green in the middle of the ballroom at Malfoy Mansion.

When he woke up, Draco felt confused. The baby Weasel would _never_ be in his house, let alone _dancing_ in it. He knew from his Divination class that dreams were symbolic, but what Ginny dancing in his ballroom symbolised, he had no idea.

Breakfast was uneventful. Draco had got ignoring Pansy Parkinson down to an art form. She sat next to him during lunch as well.

'You look tired, Draco,' she said. 'You should sleep more.' She put her hand on his thigh, near his crotch.

'Get your hand off of my leg,' he sneered, holding his fork tight in his fist, 'or I'll stab it with my fork.'

She quickly withdrew her hand, but the fact that she was still trying to get Draco to have some sort of romantic interest in her infuriated him. He left lunch to go to Double Transfiguration feeling overly miffed. In the corridor, walking towards the dungeons, Draco spotted Ginny. Her hair was plaited and pulled completely away from her face. She was looking down at some parchment in her hand and talking to a blonde Ravenclaw girl with rather large eyes. Draco only knew she was a Ravenclaw by the colours of her school tie.

Wanting to take his anger out on someone, Draco took two steps over to the left and deliberately bumped into the baby Weasel. The parchment flew from her hands and scattered all over the corridor and her books fell with a loud _thud_ to the ground. She whirled around and faced him.

'You are such an arse!' she cried. Making a sound in her throat of indignation, she took out her wand and pointed it at the scattered parchment. 

'Ah, ah, ah,' said Draco. 'No magic in the corridors between classes.' He tapped the prefect badge pinned to his school robes. 'If you do, I'll have to give you another detention. I suppose you'll just have to pick up your things the Muggle way, which shouldn't be a foreign idea to you, Mudblood lover.'

Ginny's eyes flashed in anger.

Draco raised his eyebrows and gave her his best evil-smile. Then, he turned to go down the hallway towards McGonagall's classroom. He turned his head around once, to look back at Ginny. She was staring at his retreating form and he gave her a wink before disappearing around the corner.

XXXXXXX

When Ginny arrived in dungeon four that night, Malfoy was already there. She marched right up to him and punched him in the shoulder - hard.

'What the fuck?' he said, rubbing his arm.

'You made me late for Potions! Slughorn gave me detention for being late! Said he had to be fair to _all_ students! McGonagall's been on his back about favouritism so now, I get to serve detention Friday, Saturday, _and_ Sunday, no thanks to you.'

'That's too bad.'

'I have a Muggle Studies essay due on Monday immediately after breakfast. I have a test in Potions to study for tomorrow and a Transfiguration essay due on Friday which will take all my free time on Thursday to finish. Not to mention there's a Quidditch match on Saturday and practise on Sunday. Sunday night was going to be my night to finish my essay, but thanks to you, I'm going to lose even _more_ sleep. I'm so _fucking_ tired because of detention and my stupid NEWT-level classes that I'm about to go mad.'

'Not my problem.'

'It's not your problem, but it's your fault. If you hadn't picked a fight with my brother in the library, I wouldn't be here now, yelling at you! If you hadn't been a complete git in the hallway earlier, I wouldn't have detention on Sunday. Ohhhh, I hate you.'

Ginny huffed and turned around. The ingredients for the potions that needed to be made that night were sitting on the desks. Ginny went to measure everything out for the Pepperup Potion. She hummed while she did so, not wanting to listen to anything that Malfoy might have to say. He said something once, but she increased the volume of her humming, completely blocking him out. She was tired of him. Tired of his shite. And she wasn't going to think about him ever again.

XXXXXXX

The game on Saturday was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Ginny was geared up in her red and gold Quidditch gear, breathing slowly in and out, trying to compose herself and keep her hands from shaking. The weather outside had turned from hazy and misty to bitter cold and windy. The sky wasn't as dark as it had been earlier in the week, but the grey of the clouds had put the entire school in a subdued sort of mood. They hadn't seen the sun in days and it was beginning to get to everyone. Bad weather just led to bad moods.

'You all right?'

Ginny looked up from where she was seated on one of the benches in the Gryffindor Quidditch tent. The rest of the team - her brother, Kirke, Sloper, and two new Chasers who were second-years - were standing in a circle discussing strategy. Harry had obviously wandered from the group over towards her.

'I'm fine.'

'Ron's making sure everyone's got the plays down.'

Ginny nodded. 'I know, he drilled me last night on them. He's a really good captain.'

'You look a bit nervous.'

'A bit.'

'You've never acted nervous before a game before.'

Ginny shrugged. 'I don't know. I'm feeling kind of weird.' She shook her head. 'I think I'm just tired, nothing to worry about.'

'If you're sure...'

'You don't have to worry about me. I'll play brilliantly as always. Don't look at me like that. Please.' Ginny averted her gaze. She couldn't stand when Harry looked at her with concern riddled in his eyes.

'Hey, that's the whistle. We better go,' said Harry. He handed her broom to her and turned on his heel and headed out of the tent.

The game went smoothly. Madam Hooch blew the whistle to start the game, throwing up the Quaffle high into the air. Euan, one of the second year Chasers, grabbed the ball and took off towards the rings. He had a brand new Nimbus 2003, which was almost as fast as Harry's Firebolt, and no one had caught up to him yet. Just as he reached back to chuck the ball through the far left hoop, Crabbe took his bat and hit the Bludger with a loud _crack_ , breaking his bat, and sending the Bludger straight into Euan's shoulder.

' _Shite!_ ' cried Ginny, watching as Euan dropped the Quaffle. She raced towards it, hoping to scoop it up and finish what Euan had started, but one of the Slytherin Chasers beat her to it. 

Taking off towards Ron, the three Slytherin Chasers tossed the Quaffle back and forth, weaving in between the Gryffindor players. Kirke and Sloper were trying their best, but the Bludgers weren't stopping the Slytherin team. Ginny had to close her eyes as the Quaffle went sailing towards the Gryffindor hoops.

_Please block it, please block it, please block it._

Cheers broke out throughout the stands. Either Ron blocked it or the Slytherins scored. Ginny opened her eyes; Ron hovered in front of the ring with the Quaffle in his hands, looking rather smug.

_Oh, thank God._

Just then Ginny realised she was open and she called out Ron's name. His head snapped towards her and he chucked the ball in her direction. She caught it mid-turn as she made her way to the other side of the pitch. Crabbe and Goyle tried to hit the Bludgers at her, but Kirke and Sloper used their bats to block each of their tries. Ginny made her way up to the hoops and threw the Quaffle as hard as she could.

Before the Quaffle went through the goal, which it did, Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Was there a foul? Ginny turned her head, but Madam Hooch wasn't signalling a foul; she was signalling the end of the game. Her eyes darting all over the pitch, Ginny tried to find Harry. He was on his broom, ten feet from the ground, but his hands were empty.

_Oh, shite._

Her eyes rested on Malfoy. In his hand was the Golden Snitch, Ginny's heart sank; her disappointment came in tears that prickled her eyes. So much for that victory party Colin had been planning. Ginny flew slowly down to the ground, dismounted her broom, and made her way back to the tent to change. It was the quickest game she'd ever played. Harry always caught the Snitch. Why didn't Harry catch the Snitch?

She couldn't ask him that, though. The whole game was too tragic. Maybe some other day she'd find out what happened.

XXXXXXX

Ginny skipped lunch, not feeling the least bit hungry. Instead, she went to the library to get started on that Muggle Studies essay. She hadn't even begun and it was supposed to be three feet and a half feet long. One of the tables was stacked four feet high with books and Ginny wasn't surprised to find Hermione hiding behind them. Ginny sat down with her and immediately complained about the length of her essay.

'That's not all that bad, really,' said Hermione. 'When my mother was in Muggle secondary school when she was sixteen, she had to write a paper that was fifteen thousand words long.'

'She had to count her _words_?' asked Ginny, amazed and horrified.

'Yes, but nowadays there are machines that count your words for you.'

' _Really_? Wow, how do those work.'

'Er... I don't think I could explain it very well.'

Ginny nodded. 'Right. What are you working on?' Ginny looked at the open book. 'Potions?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No. Well, yes, but not for Professor Slughorn. I'm researching how to make my own potions.'

'Own potions for what?'

Hermione leaned in towards Ginny. 'I have a theory on how to make a potion that will protect against the Killing Curse.'

Being run over by the Hogwarts Express could not have shocked Ginny any more than Hermione just had. She blinked a few times, replaying Hermione's words over again in her head. A way to deflect the Killing Curse? Really?

'Well, if anyone could come up with such a brilliant idea, it would be you,' Ginny replied. 

'It's taking up all of my time, but it's important.'

'All of your time? What about NEWTs?'

Hermione laughed bitterly. 'That's what Ron asked me.'

'Uh-oh. Is this going to have something to do with why you're not speaking to my brother? He asked me about it during breakfast. He's rather... er... upset about it.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I'm Head Girl already, no surprise there, right? This is more important than NEWTs. If I could actually make this potion work, Harry would be stronger, he could defeat Voldemort. That's the most important thing. Well, _Ron_ said that he wanted to go ice skating... something about how the day I found something more important than school marks and NEWTs was the day Hell froze over.'

Ginny laughed. 'That's funny.'

'Well, then I told him that if the way he plays Quidditch is any indication of his athletic ability, then he wouldn't be able to ice skate more than two feet without falling down and breaking something.'

Ginny let out a low whistle. 'That was harsh.'

'Well, he made me angry.'

'Ah, well, you two always fight. It's how you flirt.'

'I beg your pardon?'

Ginny smiled. 'It's true. You can't deny it. You and Ron purposefully pick fights with one another. There's a pool going on, y'know, with the sixth and seventh-years. We're all betting on when you're going to get together.'

'Is there really?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, but I should start one. I bet I could make loads of money. We're all waiting for it to happen.'

Hermione groaned. 'I cannot believe this. Do you really talk about Ron and me behind our backs?'

'Sure, especially with Harry.'

'Oh, my God.'

Ginny laughed. 

'Speaking of Harry,' said Hermione, 'what's going on with the two of you?'

'Nice way to change the subject.'

'I try.'

'Well, since you asked, nothing.'

Hermione looked disappointed. 'Nothing?'

'No. Well, we went out - everyone knows that. Harry broke it off - you know that as well. We haven't entertained the idea of going together for a while now. I'm not really cut up about it anymore. We get along perfectly as friends. You don't think he still fancies me, do you?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I don't know. He's very hard to read these days after...'

'After Dumbledore,' finished Ginny, 'yeah. Well, there's plenty of other boys out there for me.'

'Oh? Like who?'

Ginny clamped her mouth down. She had meant it to be an off-handed remark. 'Like no one. Anyone. I don't fancy anyone.'

Hermione's mouth curled up in a smile. 'No one?'

'Nope. Not a soul.'

XXXXXXX

Draco hauled himself to detention that night, feeling pretty good about himself. He had caught the Snitch right from under Potter's nose. The game lasted ten minutes. Gryffindor didn't even get the chance to score. Draco chuckled to himself. He opened the door to dungeon four and walked inside.

Ginny was already there in a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans with holes in the knees. Didn't she have _anything_ that didn't make her look like a sack of old rags?

'Hello,' said Ginny.

Draco looked at the board. 'Bone Re-growth Drafts!' he spat. 'Why can't they just buy Skele-Gro?'

Ginny shrugged.

'Did you read the bloody instructions? It has to sit for _five_ hours. And every twenty minutes it has to be stirred once, clockwise.'

'I read the instructions. I _can_ read, y'know.'

' _Five_ hours.'

'Yes, I _heard_ you.'

'Well, we better get started if we're going be here for five hours.' Draco took off his dragon skin jacket that he had put on earlier when he went to his hiding place - a deserted classroom near the library. It was always cold in there; it didn't have a fireplace and had a broken window that let in a lot of the cold winter air. He liked it there because he could study or sleep or whatever he felt like doing without anyone bothering him. A few times he'd taken Daphne there to fool around. It had been nice until she suddenly grew a conscience and decided that cheating on her boyfriend was a bad idea. What good was having a conscience if it meant leaving a perfectly good boy hanging high and dry (and hard and horny)? Had anyone known about Draco and the room they might have wondered why he had never taken Pansy there, especially when the two of them were always gallivanting off together in fourth and fifth year. Truth was, Draco didn't want anyone else to know about it because it was a special place; he already regretted letting Daphne find out about it.

It took Draco ten minutes to mix all of the ingredients together. They took on a very foul smell that filled the entire room. Draco tapped the magical timer for twenty minutes and sat down sideways in one of the desk chairs, draping his arm over the back.

'You're not much help,' said Draco.

'I don't have high marks in Potions. You do.'

Draco nodded. 'True.'

'Why don't you leave? I can stir the potion every twenty minutes.'

'No,' said Draco, shaking his head. 'I don't need McGonagall finding out that I skived off detention.'

Ginny shrugged. 'Suit yourself.' She sat down at a desk across from him and began to tap her fingers against the desktop, never taking her eyes off him.

Draco looked all around the dungeon classroom before realising that he couldn't avoid her gaze forever. He settled his eyes on hers and noticed for the first time that her eyes were the colour of chocolate. She had a lot of freckles, although not nearly as many as Ron, who just looked ridiculous with them. Hers looked as though they were dusted across her skin, instead of a nasty skin disease like Weasel's. 

'Did you look in the library for books on Tom Riddle?' asked Ginny.

'No.'

'Still convinced that Voldemort is a pureblood?'

'I don't have an opinion on the matter.'

Ginny smiled. 'Liar.'

'Look, even if the Dark Lord is part Muggle, his ideals and principles are still right.'

'Are they?' Ginny challenged.

'Yes,' retorted Draco without blinking.

'So why aren't you a Death Eater? You must be seventeen already.'

'Yes, since June.'

'All right, so how come you aren't a Death Eater? I thought I saw the Dark Mark on Nott already.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Oh, shite, Theodore is a complete imbecile. He's a year older than the rest of us. He failed his first-year at Durmstrang so his parents sent him here so that no one would find out he's totally dim-witted. Of course, he was accepted here first - Hogwarts has no procedure on how to accept students. They take every half-wit in Britain. Durmstrang, though... you have to _apply_ there.'

'What does that have to do with him being a Death Eater?'

'He was able to be inducted before anyone else. He's got a year on the rest of us.' Draco paused. 'I shouldn't be talking to you about this.'

'Oh, relax. Everyone knows Nott's a Death Eater. Everyone knows your father is as well. Harry listed the names of everyone that was present when Cedric died, remember?'

'Yes.'

'And I happen to know that it doesn't matter whether you're a Death Eater and a student. It's probably smarter to keep all Death Eaters out of commission as much as possible. Nott cannot leave school, can he? Not since the Vanishing Cabinets were destroyed. Therefore, he can't participate in any Death Eater activities. I've given this a lot of thought.'

'I'm not a Death Eater because my father doesn't think I'm ready. Theo is a mindless drone. He'll do anything his parents or the Dark Lord tells him to do without thinking twice about it. My father says I feel too much. He won't submit my name to the Dark Lord until I'm ready.'

'I don't think you're ready either.'

'Fuck you.'

'You sounded too conflicted when I told you Voldemort was Muggle. I think you're a bigot, but I don't think you're willing to accept orders from someone who you think you're supposed to hate.'

'If I feel too much, then you think too much,' said Draco. 'Why do you analyse things so much?'

'I don't know. That's what you do when you're ignored most of your life.'

'Who ignored you?'

'My brothers. I was a little girl. They didn't have time for me. When I came to Hogwarts, Ron had these two best friends and I was inconsequential. The first time any of them really noticed me was about the time I turned fifteen. And, well, last year I suppose I was noticed... but before that... Anyway, when no one looks at you, you look at them... and you... analyse.'

Draco nodded. 'I see. I would have ignored you as well.'

'That's because you're an arse. Besides, I wasn't trying to over-think anything. I'm just explaining why I don't think you're ready to be a Death Eater. Perhaps one day I'll even inspire you _not_ to become a Death Eater.'

'Ah, so I can be noble like you and Potter.'

'You could never be noble like Harry.'

Draco let out a bitter laugh. 'I almost forgot you worship Potter. It's painfully obvious the way you swoon over him.'

'I haven't swooned over him in ages. We were together, but I'm sure you know that already. We're not now. I've moved on. I think he'll always think he needs to protect me, just like Ron.'

'Ah, yes, you'll always be the baby Weasel.'

'Don't call me that,' whispered Ginny.

'What? Weasel?'

'No, baby. I don't care if you call me Weasel.' A smile crept across Ginny's face. 'I call you Ferret Boy.'

'What? Why?'

'Because when I was a third-year Ron came bounding into the common room boasting how Professor Moody turned you into a ferret and tossed you up in the air.'

Draco frowned. He had tried to forget about that. What a humiliating experience. He was lucky his father had never found out about it. If he had, it was certain that Lucius would have done something drastic. 

'So, you don't like people calling you baby, then.'

'There's a lot of things I don't like being called. Baby is on that list.' Ginny wet her lips and they glistened just a bit. 'You played a good match today.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. 

'I knew you were a good flyer, but to beat Harry for the Snitch... Rather brilliant, really. I'm sure you enjoyed beating him.'

'I could beat Potter at anything if I cared enough to put the effort forth.'

'You've never beaten him at Quidditch before.'

Draco felt his face heat up; he hoped he wasn't blushing. What a little slag. He couldn't think of anything to say back to her. He might have demanded that she shut up, take back what she said, if he didn't already know that she didn't take orders from anyone. She was a vixen, that one.

'I don't care that much about Quidditch.'

'Of course you do!' Ginny laughed. 'You're not a very good liar.'

'I'm not lying.'

'Well, I suppose you're just very transparent then.'

Draco frowned. How _dare_ she speak to him like this!

'I think there's a lot of good in you, though.'

'No, there's not.'

'You're like Snape.'

'Greasy and wan?'

'No, silly,' said Ginny with a bright smile. 'You're going to realise which side you belong on... but for you, it's not going to be the one with Voldemort.'

'Snape's a git.'

'Snape's a Death Eater!'

'So? Doesn't mean I have to like him.'

'But after what happened at the end of last year-'

'I am _not_ talking about what happened at the end of last year. _Especially_ not with you.'

'Malfoy, what happened exactly to make you not want to curse Hermione?'

'It's not Hermione.'

'All women, whatever.'

Draco shrugged.

'We're going to be here for hours. We might as well fill the time with conversation.'

'Fine. I walked in on my parents arguing over whether I should come home for Christmas holiday. My father said I should stay at school, but my mother was trying to talk him out of it. Then, he hit her. Backhanded her across the face... made her mouth bleed... And the look in her eye... it wasn't the first time, but I'd been too busy to notice it. My father could have hit anyone else and I wouldn't have given it a second thought, but my mum...' Draco stopped. 'You're not to tell anyone about this.'

'I won't. I promise.'

'I don't know if I believe the word of a Weasley...'

'Well, you'll have to go on faith, then, won't you?'

'I don't have faith in anything.'

Ginny sighed. 'You're so... I don't know. So, your father hits your mother. A lot?'

'Don't know. I only saw it the once, but I'm sure all the time.'

'But he hasn't hit you, has he?' asked Ginny.

' _No_ ,' Draco scoffed. 'But he has nothing to get angry with me about. I do his bidding.'

'What about when you're not perfect?'

'What do you mean?'

'Like... you're not Head Boy.'

Draco frowned. 'Yes. And I wasn't allowed to go on holiday with them to Germany either. I got to stay at home with Bitty, my house-elf... but all she did was whinge so I told her to stay in the west wing of the house and not bother me.'

'Was your father Head Boy?'

'Yes. And he didn't care that I was right behind Ernie MacMillian, either. "Second best doesn't make you Head Boy." That's what my father said. Doesn't make it any better that I was tied for second with _Potter_. Although, Potter's only second because he somehow became brilliant in Potions overnight. Stop asking me questions and stop pretending like you understand.'

'Fine. It's not as though you can talk about these things with Crabbe or Goyle, yeah? But all right. I'm a _Weasley_ , after all. I shouldn't be trusted with matters of the heart.'

Draco snorted. 'Right.'

'You can ask me anything. I don't mind telling.'

'There's nothing I want to know.'

'Ah. Well, all right, then. We can sit in silence.' 

And so they did.

XXXXXXX

It was an odd feeling, walking into the dungeon classroom the next night, only to find Draco absent. They'd spent several nights in one another's company and Ginny was almost - _almost_ \- disappointed that he wasn't there. He was rude, but he seemed to open up to her... before he'd remember himself and clam up once again. He was by no means as good-looking as Harry... right? His skin was as fair as hers and his features were sharp, pointed, _blonde_. Ginny wasn't even sure she liked blondes. She'd always thought that dark, brooding men were more her style.

_Dark, brooding men who have a mad wizard after them._

Ginny smiled to herself, but it slowly faded from her face when she looked up at the board and saw her detention instructions. She didn't have to make any potions; it was far worse. In the front of the classroom was a large crate full of rats and Ginny got to be the lucky girl to take out their spleens. The third-years must be working on Shrinking Solutions. Ick.

The next day Ginny's hands smelled funny. She skipped breakfast to go to Madam Pomfrey to get some Mildred's Special Deodorising Cream for her hands. As she headed for the door, her hands smelling like peaches, she heard a familiar voice. Ducking behind one of the bed curtains, Ginny listened.

'I'll catch up with you in Herbology.'

'All right.'

Ginny heard one set of footsteps heading away from the hospital wing and another set walking further into it. Sneaking a peek around the bed, Ginny saw Malfoy walk up to Madam Pomfrey. He looked tired, with large bags underneath his eyes.

'Oh, good morning, Mr Malfoy. Back so soon?'

'Yes.'

'Well, hold on one moment.' Madam Pomfrey dipped out of view, probably to the large medicine cupboard. When she came back into focus, she handed a medium-sized bottle to Malfoy. 'I don't like giving this out to students, but since Minerva insisted... Please try to use it sparingly.'

Malfoy nodded. He tapped the bottle, shrunk it, and stuck it in his pocket. Ginny watched as he retreated from the hospital wing. 

'It's not nice to eavesdrop,' scolded Madam Pomfrey.

Ginny jumped, her heart leaping into her throat. 'I'm - sorry!' she stammered as she came out from around the bed curtains. 

Madam Pomfrey gave her a stern look. 'Get on to class, then.'

Ginny nodded. 'Thanks for the-' She held up her hands.

Madam Pomfrey nodded and turned around to go back to work. Ginny left the hospital wing and jumped again when she saw Malfoy standing outside of the hospital door. She narrowed her eyes at him.

'Trying to scare me?'

'No. Waiting for you.'

'How did you know I was in there?'

'I saw your shoes from under the curtains,' said Malfoy.

Ginny looked down at her old, scuffed black Mary Janes. Her ears heated up. 'Sorry.'

'Are you following me?'

'No. I had to see Madam Pomfrey. What did she give you?'

'Just a potion.'

'It must be a rather important potion if she doesn't approve of giving it out.'

Malfoy shrugged. 'She doesn't have a choice. The old toad we have for a Headmistress insists.'

'What is it?'

'I didn't wait out here to have you interrogate me.'

'Why _did_ you stop, then?'

Malfoy took a step closer to Ginny. 'To tell you it's not nice to eavesdrop and you should mind your own bloody business.'

Ginny looked into his grey, lifeless eyes. 'I'm sorry. What's the potion?' she asked again.

'Just a Sleeping Draught.'

'You can't sleep?'

'Would I have it if I could?'

Ginny shrugged. 'I suppose not.'

'Stop following me around,' snapped Malfoy. He narrowed his eyes, sneered, and walked away. 

Ginny stood, watching him go, with her textbooks in her arms. She wet her lips and took in a deep breath, wondering why her heart was pounding.

XXXXXXX

The day was especially cold during the final Hogsmeade visit before the end of term. Draco had on his nicest cloak, black cloth embroidered with green silk thread, and his warm, dragon skin boots. He was alone today, no thanks to Blaise.

_'Take me to Hogsmeade,' whined Pansy, pulling on the sleeve of Draco's shirt. He shrugged her off, as he usually did, and tried to refocus on the textbook sitting on his lap. Apparently he shouldn't have decided to sit on the sofa; he should have chosen a chair where Pansy couldn't wiggle in next to him._

_'I already have plans to go to Hogsmeade.'_

_'With who?' asked Pansy, her lips dipping down into a scowl._

_'I've already decided to do my shopping with Blaise.'_

_'With Blaise! But-'_

_'Sorry.'_

_From across the table in the Slytherin common room, Blaise Zabini looked up from where he was seated on the floor._

_'Oh, about that...' he said._

_'What,' spat Draco._

_'I sort-of told Daphne I'd go with her.'_

_Draco felt his face heat up in anger. 'You told Daphne.'_

_'Yes.'_

_'I suppose making plans before Daphne wanted to go with you means nothing.'_

_'Well-'_

_'I also suppose if you told Daphne no, she wouldn't go down on you and give you that great head you tell everyone about.'_

_'Now, see here-'_

_'Oh, stuff it,' interrupted Draco, standing up. 'I'm going to the library.'_

But all that had been two days ago. Draco could have gone with Pansy, but the idea of listening to her simper all day long and complain about the snow and the wind made him want to vomit all over her pink Mary Janes.

It was nice, being in Hogsmeade alone. He didn't have to go into any stores he didn't want and he most certainly didn't have to listen to the babble of any of his friends. Crabbe and Goyle kept following him, though, as if they thought Draco might suddenly want company. He didn't.

Ah, Scrivenshaft's. Draco smiled to himself - although, to anyone watching him, his smile looked nothing like a smile, but more like a widening of his mouth. He knew Mr Scrivenshaft, Sr very well. The old, bearded man had been to Malfoy Mansion several times over the past few years dealing in ancient and secret quills. Magic quills and ink were nothing new to the wizarding world, but a good set could prove to be priceless. 

Even though he didn't need a set of magic quills, Draco went into the store anyway. Mr Scrivenshaft never allowed the public access to his secret quills, but Draco knew just what to say to get access.

Upon opening the front door, a bell rang overhead. Draco glanced up at it before closing the door behind him. His feet made a shuffling sound against the wood floor and he brushed the snow from his cloak.

'Ah, Mr Malfoy.' Mr Scrivenshaft came from a back room wearing a black Muggle suit that matched his dark, beetle-like eyes. Draco frowned at it. Mr Scrivenshaft must have noticed because he said, 'It's an Italian suit, made in the twenties. I like old Muggle suits. I Imperiused a man to make me a dozen of these suits in various colours.'

That, Draco could admire. 

'I need some quills,' said Draco.

'What kind?'

'Some good ones. I don't want anything like anyone at school might have, if you understand what I mean.'

'I believe I do. Come with me.'

Draco followed Mr Scrivenshaft to the back room. It looked like a storeroom, with lots of boxes and shelves. 

'What kind of quill would you like? I'm not sure how much you have to spend.'

'Malfoys are not bound by monetary limits. Tell me the price and I shall pay it.'

'Here is a pen that writes the words you speak or will write what you speak in a secret code if you charm it to do so.'

Draco shook his head. 

'Or, this will write in the handwriting of anyone you want it to. Very useful when you need a document signed and cannot find the wizard to sign it.'

Again, Draco shook his head.

Mr Scrivenshaft looked around at the boxes on his shelves. 'Ah,' he said, 'this is a set. Two quills, two bottles of ink. You write a message on any piece of parchment and the ink will disappear after ten minutes. Your correspondent will dip their quill in their ink and write on the paper. Their quill will write out the letter you wrote.'

'Interesting,' said Draco appreciatively.

'It's very useful for people to use who are on the same side of a war.'

'Yes, I imagine it would be.'

'If you run out of ink, all you have to do is make sure that the ink you and your correspondent use is from the same batch or bottle.'

'Brilliant. Wrap it up, then.'

Mr Scrivenshaft nodded and took the box into the main store near the cash register. Draco went through the displays of quills, ink, and parchment as he made his way up to the front. The store had a few other customers - two adult witches and a small group of Ravenclaws. Mr Scrivenshaft wrapped up the set of quills and ink in white paper and put it in a small sack. He handed it over the counter to Draco.

'Thirty-four Galleons, twenty-three Knuts.' 

Draco pulled out a stone, perfectly round and one centimetre thick. It had numbers all around the edge, bordering a picture of a key in the middle. Mr Scrivenshaft tapped his wand on the appropriate numbers as Draco watched carefully. When he was finished, he handed the stone back to Draco, who placed it in his trouser pocket.

'You're a smart boy,' said Mr Scrivenshaft, 'to not carry around that much money.'

'Yes. I have my own vault so I have control of my Collybus Stone.'

'You're very lucky. There aren't many students with a Collybus Stone.'

'No. Say hello to my father next time you see him.'

Mr Scrivenshaft nodded. 'Yes. Have a nice day. Happy Christmas.'

Draco made his way out of the store, pulling his cloak close around his front to prepare himself for the cold wind that was going to assault him as soon as he opened the door. Once outside, Draco almost bumped into another Hogwarts student.

'Oof!' a surprised-sounding voice said, almost falling over.

Instinctively, Draco reached out and grabbed hold of an arm to keep the other person from falling. The moment he realised it was the baby Weasel, he dropped the arm and stepped away.

'I think you like bumping into me,' said Ginny. 'Third time it's happened.'

'I'm going to have to burn my gloves.'

'Oh, shut it. You don't always have to be nasty.' Ginny looked past him. 'Are you here alone?' she asked, her eyes returning to him.

'Yes.'

'I thought you'd be here with your clones or Pansy or something.'

'I cannot stand Pansy anymore.'

Ginny giggled. 'She looks like a fat cat with a smushed-in face.'

Draco had to clamp his mouth down to keep from laughing. It was true, so very, very true. But nothing that Ginny Weasley said could ever be funny. He shouldn't even have the inclination to laugh. What was wrong with him? 

'Watch where you're going next time, _baby_ Weasel.'

Draco walked off, back towards Hogwarts.

XXXXXXX

Ginny didn't see Malfoy again until the Christmas holiday. Hermione invited Harry and Ron to her house for the holiday; Ginny was invited as well, but she didn't feel like spending her break from school listening to Ron and Hermione bicker. Her mum figured Ginny would be going to the Grangers' so she accepted Bill's invitation to come to Egypt. It was all fine with Ginny, though. She didn't mind spending the holiday with herself. She was going to be the only sixth-year in all of Hogwarts to stay, but that was no matter. 

On Christmas Eve, she said good-bye to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and received an especially-long hug from Colin. That night, she was the only one in the Gryffindor common room. She'd never been in the common room completely alone before. There were a handful of second- and third-year boys who stayed as well, but they were all up in their dormitories.

She went upstairs early and sat on the windowsill near her bed and watched the snow fall from the thick clouds. The ground was completely covered and the lake iced over. The blanket of snow made the grounds look like a Christmas card. Ginny had an urge to go outside and build a snowman, but she knew it was after-hours and the last thing she needed was to be in detention again. 

Her sheets and blankets felt wonderfully warm as she climbed into bed. She closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly. When she woke up the next morning she couldn't remember anything she dreamt. At the end of her bed were several presents. Not feeling like opening them just yet, she got out of bed, padded barefoot down to the girls' loo, and took a shower. She got dressed and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. There were only four students sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ginny looked at the other tables; six Ravenclaws, seven Hufflepuffs, and three Slytherins were seated. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Slughorn were the only professors at school. Where the teachers went, Ginny had no idea. There wasn't a need to have all the professors at school since there were so few students. Of course, there were few students in the first place. Ever since Dumbledore died many students had stayed home with their families. McGonagall, as the newly appointed Headmistress, was unable to find a replacement for Transfiguration so she had to double her duties. No one wanted to teach at Hogwarts. She was lucky to find a member of the Order willing to teach Defence.

Ginny sat down near a sandy-haired second-year and ate some oatmeal and a piece of toast before going back upstairs to get her winter cloak. She went outside and walked the grounds, watching her feet sink into the snow, making a trail from the doors all the way to the pitch and back. She went over to the cemetery and looked at the large white tomb that held Dumbledore's body. Her mouth suddenly went dry and her throat got thick. It was so cold out, though, that she thought her tears might freeze if she cried, so she turned around and made her way back to the castle.

As she opened up the doors to go back inside an hour or so later, she caught a glimpse of a fair-haired boy sitting under a tree in the distance. Had she not already been so cold, she might have gone over to him, but sanity got the better of her and she went inside to warm up.

XXXXXXX

Draco walked into the Great Hall for the Christmas feast around midday on Christmas. There was only one long table in the centre of the hall and he felt the inclination to turn around and walk back to his common room, but McGonagall called over to him to sit down before he had the chance to bolt.

_Shite_ , he thought, realising the only open space was right next to the baby Weasel. Taking in a deep breath, Draco went and sat down. He reached and piled his plate with roasted potatoes, turkey, and squash. Reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, Draco brushed his arm against Ginny's as she reached for the butter dish.

'Sorry,' she said, glancing at him.

Draco didn't say anything. He filled his goblet and settled in to eat. The other students and teachers around him chatted with one another; the sound was nauseating.

'So, are you staying on your own accord or did your father not let you come home?'

Draco turned his head and looked at Ginny. Her hair was down around her face and tucked behind her ear on one side. Her lips were very red and she kept sniffling as if she had a cold. She had on an old jumper with a very old-looking gold necklace around her throat. 

'Are you sick?' he asked instead of answering her question.

'What? Ohh, no. Maybe a bit of a cold. I was outside for a while earlier.'

'I saw you,' said Draco. 'You should probably get a scarf or gloves. You'll get frostbite one day if you don't. Or learn a very good warming charm since I doubt you can afford any new clothes.' Immediately after the words left his mouth, he wished he had never said anything at all. It sounded as though he cared or something, which he did not. Not at all.

Ginny smiled and nodded. 'You're right.'

What? He was right? Draco was dumbstruck. What was with her and not taking his bait? Perhaps... and the thought was not pleasing to Draco... but perhaps she was too mature to take his bait. Perhaps she was _beyond_ such things as petty arguments. Her brown eyes bore into him and he had to rip his gaze away. He didn't like the way his palms felt sweaty or his heart thumped in his ears. He didn't like the way she made him feel. Daphne had given him similar reactions when they had fooled around behind Blaise's back... 

But this was forbidden. This wasn't allowed. This was wrong.

If anyone found out that Draco's mouth went dry and his tongue felt like cotton and his words got tangled up in his throat when he was around this _Mudblood lover_ , why he'd never be able to live it down. He'd be shunned from Slytherin house. Things were already bad enough in Slytherin in the first place. He and Nott were hardly on speaking terms any longer, since Nott found out that it had been Draco's responsibility to kill Dumbledore and he hadn't done it. Crabbe and Goyle, although still loyal, seemed unsure about him. They still took orders, but it was almost as if they were placating him, as if they were no longer afraid of him. Then there were the girls - Daphne's presence was as annoying as always and Pansy swooned over him as though he was God, which might have been fine if she wasn't so submissive and infuriating. 

'You didn't answer my question, though,' said Ginny.

'Oh. My father had meetings to attend and he sent my mother to visit her great-aunt.'

'Why didn't you go with your mother?'

'I would rather stay here.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'You're a terrible liar.'

'I am not,' said Draco. He paused. 'Well, apparently I am around you.'

'None of your friends are here.'

'No. Crabbe and Goyle are doing their initiation tasks for-' Draco immediately stopped talking. 

'For the Death Eaters. You're not telling me anything that I don't already know, or couldn't figure out on my own. Besides, you told me before that Crabbe and Goyle were going to become Death Eaters. What do they have to do?'

'I don't know. Something to prove their loyalty.'

Ginny's face fell. Her eyes stopped being lively and quickly grew dark. Draco had to know what she was thinking.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'Oh. Um. Nothing. Thinking about what they would have to do to prove their loyalty.'

'I don't know,' said Draco again. 

'Something _terrible_ , I'm sure.'

'Yes, terrible. Something ghastly. Like killing kittens.'

Ginny's mouth fell open and for a moment she seemed to be speechless. But then, she laughed. Her laugh was intoxicating. Her entire face changed and seemed to come to life again.

'You made a joke!' she cried.

Draco frowned. A joke? But he didn't make jokes. He was very sarcastic, certainly, but he never made _jokes_. Not on purpose anyway.

'You should try to be funny more often,' said Ginny. 'You don't look your usual self tonight,' she observed. 'You seem different.'

'Do I?'

'Yeah. You don't seem to be as angry.'

'Angry?'

'You always seem like you're angry or disgruntled most of the time. You seem almost happy today. No, happy is too strong a word. You seem... _normal_.'

'Thanks,' said Draco with a very bitter tone. He put down is fork and knife, took a sip from his goblet and got up from the table. The way his heart was continuing to thump, thump, thump in his chest was driving him mad. He couldn't sit at the table any longer, looking at _her_ \- a silly, Mudblood-loving bint. There was something wrong with him. He needed to drink the Firewhisky that was stuffed at the bottom of his trunk until he forgot all about her.

He opened the doors and slipped through them and made his way towards the dungeon staircase. He heard the door open and footsteps jogging behind him.

'Draco!'

It was _her_. He stopped walking and turned around. She slowed down and walked up to him. Her arm was outstretched and it took Draco a few seconds before he was able to tear his eyes away from her face to look at her hand.

'You left your scarf on the table,' she said. 'It's very nice.'

'Yes,' he said, 'it's made of cashmere.'

'Isn't that a Muggle fabric?'

'No. It's not. Not originally anyway.'

Ginny shrugged. 'Well, there you go. Happy Christmas.'

Draco took the scarf and put it around his neck. 'Right.' He turned around to go down the stairs when he heard Ginny say, 'Oh, hey, look.'

Turning back around once more, Draco saw that Ginny was pointing to something above them. Looking up, he saw a small green plant hanging from the doorway to the dungeon stairs. Oh, fuck. 

'Mistletoe,' she said.

Draco looked from the mistletoe back down to Ginny. His brain yelled at his feet to start walking in the opposite direction, far, far away from this soon-to-be disaster. It felt as though there was a permanent sticking charm on the bottom of his shoes because his feet were not moving.

Ginny took hold of the ends of his scarf and tugged on them, bringing him closer to her. She stood up on her tiptoes and placed her lips lightly on his. Her mouth was warm and smooth and when she pulled away, Draco's fell open in shock. Did she really just do that? Oh, shite, she had!

'Um,' said Ginny, her eyebrows furrowing together ever so slightly. 'Happy Christmas.'

'You said that already.'

'Right. I did. Well, Happy Christmas anyway and I'll - well, bye!'

Draco watched as Ginny turned and ran across the entrance hall and dashed up the moving staircase. He rubbed at his eyes before turning and making his way to the Slytherin dormitories.

XXXXXXX

**To Be Continued...**

XXXXXXX


	3. Fire and Chocolate

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Three: Fire and Chocolate**

XXXXXXX

'How was your holiday?' asked Hermione, sitting down next to Ginny on the sofa in the common room. Her hair was plaited, which was unusual for Hermione, and tied with a red ribbon that matched her long-sleeved red t-shirt. Ginny noticed Ron looking everywhere in the common room except for at Hermione. The one time she saw his eyes look in their direction, his ears turned bright red.

'Oh. It was all right.' Ginny's stomach rumbled loudly.

'Hungry?'

'Well, I suppose I'm a bit peckish.'

'Didn't you just have breakfast?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, I overslept.'

Overslept? Truth was, Ginny had been avoiding the Great Hall at all costs. She spent all of her time over the Christmas holiday in Gryffindor Tower. One of the second-years got her books from the library so she could do her holiday essay for McGonagall, and at midnight each night, she snuck down to the kitchens to nick food for the next day. Ginny didn't want to run into Malfoy. 

'How was your holiday?' 

Hermione shrugged. 'It was lovely enough.'

'Lovely enough? What does that mean?'

'Oh, I don't know. Ron acted funny the entire time and Harry spent the entire time chatting up one of my neighbours, who _by the way_ is twenty-one-years-old. Far too old for Harry.'

'Perhaps she thought he was cute.'

'Well, obviously.'

'How did my brother act?' asked Ginny.

'He was very odd. He acted as if he and I never spent time alone without Harry before.' Hermione sighed. 'He was jumpy and whenever he talked he stuttered. I don't know what his problem is.'

'The problem is he fancies you.'

'Yes... I know.'

'You do?' Ginny was shocked.

'Of course I do. We... well, I just know that he does.'

Ginny giggled. 'Has he told you?'

Hermione's cheeks pinked, but she didn't answer.

'You're not dating one another, are you?'

'No...' said Hermione very slowly. 'I don't know.'

'Hermione, just _what_ happened over Christmas that made Ron act so peculiarly?'

The pink tinge of Hermione's cheeks darkened. 'Well, if you must know...'

'Hermione! Just _tell_ me. We tell each other everything.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Do we?'

Ginny felt herself pale. Well, no, because if they told one another everything then that would mean Ginny would have to tell her about Malfoy, but she couldn't do that.

'Yes, of course we do,' said Ginny firmly. 'You told me about snogging Krum and I told you about, well, y'know, with Harry.'

'Oh, all right,' said Hermione. 'I suppose you're right. Truth is, Ron kissed me.'

'So? He's kissed you before, hasn't he?'

'Yes, the first time was after Bill and Fleur's wedding.' Hermione smiled with a somewhat dreamy look in her eyes. 'It's been sporadic after that. I'm not sure why. Although, when we were at my house it was quite frequent.'

'You mean, you kissed more than usual?'

'Every day,' answered Hermione, blushing again. 'I think it's because we weren't at school and my parents worked so he, Harry, and I were left alone, but Harry was off next door quite a bit. Anyway, my dad walked in on us.'

Ginny's eyes widened. 'Walked in on you doing what?'

'Kissing.'

'Oh, is that all,' Ginny replied, waving a dismissive hand. But Hermione's even deeper blush told her that it _wasn't_ all. 'Hermione, what _else_ were you doing?'

Hermione placed her head in her hands. 'It's so embarrassing!' she cried.

'Just spill it already!'

'Ron's hands were...'

Ginny sighed. Getting the full story out of Hermione was quite a chore. 'Above or below your waist?'

'Above.'

Ginny smiled. 'And your dad saw.'

Hermione nodded. 'And since then Ron's been jumpy and he hardly talked to me or my parents the rest of the holiday.'

'He was embarrassed.'

'He certainly wasn't embarrassed kissing Lavender all over the place,' Hermione said with a dangerous tone.

'That's different,' said Ginny. 'He was doing that in front of other students. He was doing it to make _you_ jealous, y'know. Aren't you his girlfriend yet?'

Hermione swallowed and shook her head. 'No. Not in the sense that you and Harry were boyfriend and girlfriend. He asked you out properly, didn't he? Ron and I have what seems to be an understanding. We're together' - Hermione shrugged - 'and I think everyone knows it.'

'Well, I did see you two hold hands the other day. Does Harry know?'

'He's never asked.'

Ginny thought about this. It made perfect sense. Ron and Hermione were made for one another. They had grown into an ease with each other, and while they still bickered, they were still very close. They were private people, though, since Ginny had never seen them do anything more than hold hands, but it made sense that Ron would be embarrassed that Hermione's _father_ saw them having a personal moment. 

'Do you wish it was official?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I don't know. Anyway, I wish you would have come to my house for the holidays. I hate to think you spent all that time here alone.'

'It was nice, actually,' lied Ginny. 'I was able to finish my holiday homework and catch up on some sleep. I even practised my flying without having to book the pitch.'

'Really?'

'Yes,' said Ginny, lying again. 'What did you-'

But Ginny closed her mouth when Hermione stood up, waving Ron and Harry over to the sofa. Ginny was confused; weren't they having a conversation _without_ the boys?

'What?' asked Harry.

'We're the only ones in the common room,' said Hermione.

Ginny, Ron, and Harry looked around. The other students had vacated, probably to get lunch or play in the snow.

'Sit down,' Hermione commanded. 'I have something I need to talk to you lot about.'

Not surprisingly, Ron sat down next to Hermione. He had on what looked like a brand new Weasley jumper; it was maroon. Where Ron had got his height, Ginny didn't know. He was the tallest of all her brothers, even surpassing Bill, and very thin. Except for the exact same colour hair, she and Ron looked nothing alike. Ginny took after Charlie and the twins; she was very short and while she wasn't fat, she wasn't skinny like Ron. 

'Over the holiday I did some experiments.'

'When?' asked Ron.

'When you two were sleeping.'

'What kind of experiments?' inquired Harry.

'I found a potion that blocks the Killing Curse.'

They were all silent, staring at her Hermione. Slowly, their gazes turned to one another. Then, they all spoke at once.

'You can't block the-'

'How did you find-?'

'What did you-?'

'Wait!' cried Hermione, holding up her hand. 'Not all at once.' She looked at Ron.

'You can't block the Killing Curse,' he said.

'I assure you, I can.'

'How did you find it?' asked Harry.

'I didn't find it. I made it.'

'You _invented_ a potion that blocks the Killing Curse?'

Hermione nodded.

'How?!'

'Well, I researched it. I've been working on it for two years. It has the ingredients the most potent healing potions have, which helps protect the body. But most importantly, it has the blood of someone who has sacrificed their life for someone else.'

'You do you know who's done that?' asked Ron.

'Harry's mum.'

'Where did you get my mum's blood?' asked Harry with a worried look upon his face.

'From you.'

The look on Harry's face went from worried to all out shock. ' _What!_ '

'Remember when you got hit in the face with a Bludger during one of the Quidditch practises?'

'Er, yeah.'

'When I ran onto the pitch with a handkerchief? I sort of kept it and used that blood for the potion. I bought some feeder mice over the summer - about twenty of them. I kept them in separate cages and my mum fed them while I was at school last term. I put the potion in the water dishes of ten of the mice and the other ten I just put in regular water. When I did the curse, the mice that had the potion lived.'

Ginny was speechless and apparently so were Ron and Harry. 

After a long pause, Hermione continued, 'I don't know if the potion wears off after a certain amount of time. So, when I make some for all of us - and the Order as well - we'll have to drink it once a day.'

'How is it that my blood makes the potion work?' Harry asked.

'You have some of your mother's blood in you. Although, if I'm to make another batch of the potion, I'll need more blood.'

Harry paled. 'Are you serious?'

'Yes. Of course.'

'I'll have to _drink_ Harry's _blood_?' said Ron, looking a bit peaked himself.

Hermione looked as though she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. 'Would you rather drink a _drop_ of Harry's blood or die?'

Ron took in a deep breath. 'I don't know. Tough question, that.'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ron! What are you going to do if Voldemort - oh, _stop_ whimpering, will you? - puts his wand in your face and says _Avada Kedavra_?'

'Scream, probably. Followed by running and hiding.'

'Now you're just being silly,' said Hermione with an exasperated tone. 'I'm trying to be serious and you're making jokes.'

'Hermione?' said Ginny very softly. When the bushy-haired girl turned, Ginny began, 'What if it doesn't work on people?'

'It will.'

'But you can't be sure, can you?'

Hermione pressed her lips together and rubbed her hands together. 'Well, I suppose we'll have to test it out sometime, won't we?'

XXXXXXX

Classes resumed on Monday. Ginny's first class was Care of Magical Creatures with her brother's favourite professor. Not that Ginny didn't like Hagrid, because she did, but sometimes the class made her nervous, especially when she had to take it with other sixth-year Slytherins. Ginny hoped Hagrid had some nice Clabberts or Horklumps instead of something with sharp pointy teeth after remembering the fiasco Draco caused in his third year with the hippo-

_Did I just use his first name_? thought Ginny. _It's_ Malfoy. _Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. Not DRACO!_

'Mornin' ter all yeh,' said Hagrid when all the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years had gathered in front of his small house. 'Today we're gonna study Clabber's.'

_Oh, thank Merlin. Clabberts are harmless._

'Can anyone tell me what er Clabber' is?'

A few stray Slytherins raised their hands, but Hagrid's eyes looked over at the Gryffindors. Knowing that Hagrid would love a reason to give Gryffindor extra house points, Ginny raised her hands. After all, Fred had tried to keep a Clabbert as a pet once when he was eight.

'Clabberts are green creatures who live in trees. They have large boil-like bumps on the tops of their heads that flashes red when there's danger about. They're American creatures, but they've been traded so much that they're now found world-wide.'

'Ah! Very good! Ten points ter Gryffindor! Now I want yeh ter pair up and grab a Clabber'. Yeh'll have 'em fer a month. Keep their cages clean and feed 'em. Yeh'll have to come down ter feed 'em breakfas' and supper between yer other classes. Keep a journal fer 'em, all righ'? If they pustule's turn red, make sure ter note it. Carry on.'

Ginny paired up with Colin and they grabbed the smallest Clabbert and a cage for it. Since Colin had better handwriting, they decided to let him keep the journal and Ginny would feed it in the mornings since she usually woke up before anyone else in all of Gryffindor, and divide up the nightly feedings. 

'How was your holiday?' asked Colin as he wrote down their names on a the first piece of parchment of their Clabbert journal. 

'It was fine. Seems like an easy project, doesn't it?'

'McGonagall warned Hagrid not have any creatures that could maim any of us.'

Ginny shrugged.

'So, nothing happened at all?'

'No, should something have happened?'

'Er, no. It's just, well, never mind.'

' _What_ , Colin?' snapped Ginny.

'You seem different, edgy, or something.' He shrugged. 'Maybe it's just a bad mood. I'm guessing I'm probably imaging it, yeah?'

'Yeah.'

Colin nodded and they didn't speak another word until the end of class. As the bell rang, Ginny shooed the Clabbert into its cage, which she had lined with tree branches, twigs, and leaves. As the rest of the class began to file back towards the castle, it began to squeak and the large pimple on top of its head flashed red. Ginny closed the cage and looked around. Malfoy was walking towards Hagrid's hut with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, closely followed by Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zabini. It was the first time Ginny had seen Malfoy since she kissed him under the mistletoe. Her heart lodged in her throat and she watched the group walk past her. Following were seventh-year Ravenclaws, obviously on their way to Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. 

'Are you coming?'

Ginny turned her head. Colin was waiting for her. She nodded, stood up, and walked over to him. Malfoy didn't look her way.

XXXXXXX

Draco sat at a table near one of the windows in the Slytherin common room. Every once in a while he'd look out at it and watch the fish swim by, as the common room was located underneath the lake. It was noisy in the common room, a fact that was beginning to get on his nerves. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was half six and he had to finish writing his essay for Sinistra before tackling yet another mundane assignment for Binns. 

Daphne came and sat down across from him at the table. She looked disgruntled, her sleek brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail and tied with a silver ribbon. She had changed out of her uniform and was wearing a jumper that was too small for her and tight Muggle-style jeans - only an eye trained well would notice that her jeans was of the same calibre that his own were - sewn with thread made of real gold and instead of denim, the fabric was spun by meadow fairies using the wool from blue Lolly Sheep (magical sheep).

Draco didn't ask her what was wrong; he already knew the answer. Ever since she'd cut off their torrid affair, she only sought him out when she was miffed with Blaise, the great sod. 

Sighing loudly, Daphne opened up Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven. 'I don't know _how_ he expects me to get _anything_ done when all he wants to do is go up to the boys' dormitory.'

'If you stopped fucking him, I'm sure he'd stop trying to get you to go upstairs,' replied Draco without lifting his eyes from his Astronomy textbook. 

Daphne frowned and let out another great sigh. 'What are you working on?'

'Astronomy.'

'Do you want to go on a walk?'

'Is that question what I think it is?'

When Daphne didn't answer, Draco looked up. She sat there looking smug and confident, as if she knew Draco was going to say yes. The first time she asked Draco to go on a walk, Draco accepted, mainly because Pansy was getting on his nerves and Daphne was the most attractive girl in Slytherin house. Their walk turned into snogging when Daphne pulled him into an empty classroom and pulled him to her by his green and silver Hogwarts tie. Her tongue went into her mouth and he pulled away after a few seconds.

_'What do you think you're doing?' he had demanded._

_'Kissing you,' said Daphne._

_'You're going out with Blaise!'_

_'I know, but he's been with so many other girls-'_

'Two _!' cried Draco. 'That's not many.'_

_'I've never been with a boy before,' she said, looking down at the floor and releasing Draco's tie. He straightened it as she continued, 'I need practise so that Blaise doesn't find me boring.'_

_'You want to practise with me?'_

_'Well, you've been with other girls, haven't you?' Daphne met his eyes and Draco cleared his throat. 'I saw you snog Ana St Claire at Blaise's house last summer when we there for his birthday party.'_

_'Yes, I've kissed a few girls over the recent years.'_

_'We don't have to tell Blaise. I promise. I really fancy him and I need to make sure we stay together.'_

_'Why?'_

_'His family is very influential. It's important to be associated with influential people.'_

_Ah-ha. So that's why she wanted to make sure she stayed with Blaise._

_'My family is important as well,' snapped Draco._

_'I know, but you don't fancy me do you?'_

_'No,' lied Draco. How could he_ not _fancy Daphne? She was the prettiest witch in all of Slytherin! But he was a Malfoy and Malfoys didn't give into emotion. 'If I help you, I need to get more out of this than just snogging. I can find any ordinary girl to do this with. I need a better offer.'_

_'A better offer?' Daphne straightened herself up and held her chin up slightly. 'I can always find another bloke, y'know.'_

_'But you won't. Who would you ask? Crabbe and Goyle haven't experience in these matters and wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut about it. Nott is a complete imbecile and I think he likes boys-'_

_'Oh, you're making that up!'_

_'Am I?'_

_'I don't know. Surely you are?'_

_Draco shrugged noncommittally._

_'You're right. I don't want to practise with anyone else. Teach me.'_

_'Teach you what?'_

_'How to... y'know.'_

_'No, I don't,' said Draco, although he had a very good idea what she was referring to._

_'Did I kiss all right?'_

_'I don't know. Come here.'_

_When Daphne stepped closer to Draco, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her until she was flush against him. That first time, they kissed and stroked one another over their clothing. For the next few months things progressed quickly. Draco had kissed other girls before, but he had never done the things with them that he did with Daphne. He didn't think it meant anything more than practise, which was fine because as he sat next to Blaise in Transfiguration he couldn't help but laugh inwardly that Blaise's girlfriend was kissing and touching him everywhere behind his back._

'Draco!' Daphne cried.

Draco snapped out of his reverie and looked at Daphne. She looked the same now as she had when they were together behind Blaise's back except now her hair was much, much longer.

'What?'

'Do you want to go for a walk?'

Draco shook his head. 'No. I've finished with you.'

Daphne frowned. 'But-'

'But what?' snapped Draco. 'Remember how you said you felt _guilty_ and wanted to focus on Zabini? That's fine because it wasn't as though I was using you for anything other than a good time, but I'm finished now. I've had my fill of you, so unless you want me to tell your boyfriend that I think you give good head, you better leave me alone. Besides, guilt is _not_ a Slytherin emotion.'

'You're an arse.'

'I know that.'

'I can see why you don't have any real friends.'

'Oh, shut it, Greengrass. The only part of you anyone cares about is what's under your skirt.'

Daphne's eyes turned shiny and glassy and Draco felt immense satisfaction that she looked as though she was about to cry. Gathering his books, he went through the portrait hole and out into the dungeons. His heart was racing. He hated Daphne, even though she was pureblood and both of their fathers were in business together. She was a waste of his time. He had been foolish to let her cease their psuedo-relationship and he wasn't about to let her try to begin things again. Go for a walk together indeed.

Although, it _had_ been several months since he'd kissed a girl. 

_Except the baby Weasel kissed you._

Draco stopped walking. That was true, she had kissed him. He forced himself not to think about it. Why in the name of Merlin and Salazar Slytherin would a Weasley kiss a Malfoy anyway? That sort of thing should be illegal - or at least forbidden. His mouth was contaminated, dirty, polluted by Mudblood lover germs. 

_Then why haven't you gargled with Aggie's Anti-Germ Mouthwash? Why have you brushed your teeth so carefully? Do you actually still want to taste her on your lips? You're sick!_

No, that wasn't it. It was something different entirely. It wasn't as though he didn't want to wash her away... It was because she _was_ forbidden. What if he could actually deflower something as forbidden as a Weasley? Even if his father _did_ find out, he could easily explain the conquest. His own son, able to get a _Weasley_ to open up her knees for him. His father would have to be proud, right?

_No, he'd disown you and let the Dark Lord kill you. Would he really let the Dark Lord kill his own son?_ Draco didn't have to think on this very long because he knew the answer was yes.

Was that the reason? Was that really the reason Draco hadn't properly washed out his mouth? He wasn't sure.

Realising that he still had two assignments to work on, Draco made his way to the library. Usually he would have gone to the deserted classroom he had claimed as his own, but that assignment for Binns would require looking up information in library books. He walked leisurely to the library, his dragon skin boots making soft padding noises against the stone floor. 

The library was crowded when he reached it and only one table was empty. He sat down there and opened up his Astronomy book to finish the last bits of his essay for Sinistra. He didn't even _like_ Astronomy. Who really cared how many moons Jupiter had? Or how many rings circled Saturn? None of it was of any importance to him. But it had to be done, and after that Binns' brilliantly dull assignment. 

'Hi. Can I sit?'

Draco looked up and nearly shat himself. The baby Weasel was standing in front of him, chewing on her lower lip and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if she was nervous about something. His eyes scanned over her; her t-shirt was worn and almost-grey instead of black and there were holes in the thighs of her jeans. And, oh shite, her shirt had risen up slightly in the front from where she was holding her books tightly against her chest and he could see the small cave of her navel.

'What?'

'I said, can I sit?'

Draco just blinked at her, unsure of what to say.

XXXXXXX

When Ginny entered the library, she was surprised to find every seat full. She walked around to the more obscure tables in the back corners, but those were all full. Except for one. Draco Malfoy sat in the corner near the Magical Sports section. Most students avoided sitting near that section because some of the books had a habit of jumping off the shelves and opening up to pages with pictures of fans cheering and shouting for their winning teams. 

Ginny didn't think she had any courage to summon up, but she needed a place to sit away from the noisy common room where Ron and Hermione were having yet another blow-out row. She hoped those two would snog and get it over with - at least that way they wouldn't be able to yell with their tongues stuck down each other's throats. 

_I should talk to him_ , thought Ginny. _I should tell him I'm sorry for kissing him. It was an accident. No, it was... what was it? A fit of madness? I clearly was out of mind because Weasleys do not kiss Malfoys! We despise and hate one another and if given the chance, we'd hex each other instead of kiss. Yes. I should apologise for being out of mind._

Marching over to Malfoy's table, Ginny cleared her throat and said, 'Can I sit?'

When Malfoy looked up, he appeared startled. His grey eyes widened ever so slightly and Ginny was sure had she not spent so much time with him in detention she wouldn't have grown accustomed to the normal size of his eyes. They were still lifeless and cold, but for the first time Ginny saw the tiniest flecks of blue amongst the grey.

'What?'

'I said, can I sit?'

Malfoy blinked several times before his eyes narrowed and he sat back in his chair. 'You want to sit?' 

'Everywhere else is full,' said Ginny. 'You have the only table with open seats.'

'And you want to sit. With me.'

'Well, I want to sit in general, yes.'

Malfoy sneered. 'I don't _sit_ with Weasels,' he said, ' _especially_ baby ones.'

Ginny sat anyway. 

'What are you doing? _Go away_.'

'I want to apologise.'

Malfoy snatched up his quill and began writing on his parchment again. 'Apologise for what?' he asked, not looking up from the paper.

'For kissing you.'

He sniggered. 'No girl has ever apologised for that before.'

'I'm sure there's a first for everything,' said Ginny. 'I'm sure you wanted to burn your lips off afterwards. I forgot who I was... and who you were for a brief moment. I wouldn't be apologising if you were anyone other than Draco Malfoy. But you are. And I'm a Weasley. And Weasleys and Malfoys _do not_ kiss, so I'm sorry.'

When Malfoy didn't answer, Ginny added, 'Do you forgive me?'

'No. I had to wash my mouth out with the most potent potions,' he said. 'I felt sick for days.'

Ginny closed her eyes so he wouldn't see her rolling them. When she opened them back up, he was bent over his parchment again with his quill scratching away against it.

'Malfoy?'

When didn't answer, she turned around in her chair, stood up, and walked away.

XXXXXXX

She was _apologising_ for kissing him. As if he was so foul it warranted an apology. She was ugly anyway and her clothes were disgusting. She was disgusting and he wanted her to get out of his face.

He heard her say his name, 'Malfoy,' but he refused to look up. The words in his Astronomy book bled together as his eyes scanned over them. When he finally looked up, Ginny was gone. For a fleeting moment he wasn't sure if he should be angry or relieved that she walked away. Feeling confused, Draco gathered up his belongings; there was no way he was going to be able to get any work done in the library, not with a hundred students all whispering to one another, the scratching of quills, and the rustling of pages all ringing in his ears.

As he left the library, Draco didn't see Ginny - not that he was looking for her, because he wasn't. He walked down the fourth-floor corridor, but instead of going left and grabbing a moving staircase, he veered right and went down another hall full of classrooms that were never used. He went into classroom forty-six and slammed his books down on one of the desks before striding up to the broken window and looking out at the grounds below.

The classroom was cold so Draco did a very simple spell that emitted warm air from the end of his wand that warmed him up. The desks in the room were mostly broken and all were covered with a thick layer of dust except for the one desk Draco always used. The chalkboard had come undone on one side and was lopsided, the right bottommost corner touching the stone floor. Around the room were several globes and broken instruments that suggested it might have once been used for a Defence Against the Dark Arts class, except that the room was much to small to house a full class with the enrolment Hogwarts had had for the past several years.

Draco had discovered the room by chance one day and kept coming back. There were no rules about doing homework during the day in unused, deserted classrooms. Of course, had this been a professor's room, he would have steered clear of it, but no one had obviously used this room in several decades, if not a hundred years. 

Outside, it was snowing again. The grounds were already white and the lake frozen. A group of students were building a snowman by enchanting bits of snow to roll itself into large balls which they then levitated on top of one another. The snowman looked a lot like Hagrid actually...

_Stupid half-breed_ , thought Draco. _What a waste of time, that brut. Can't believe Dumbledore hired him. That's where this school turned wrong: Dumbledore._

As he watched the inane scene on the grounds before him, his thoughts continually ended up about Ginny. Why he couldn't stop thinking about her, he didn't know. She was outspoken and needed to be put in her place. She talked back to her superiors and thought herself equal to _him_ \- what lunacy. 

Still... she was pretty.

_No, she's ugly!_

Pretty in an unconventional way.

_She's far too short and she always looks as though she's pulled her clothes out of a rubbish bin._

Her eyes were her best feature. Her eyes and her hair. Brown and red. Chocolate and fire. 

Perhaps it was _because_ she said exactly what was in her head that struck Draco in such a way. Most of the underclassmen were afraid of him, even those who were in Slytherin. Mouths were kept shut in his presence. Part of that might have been no one wanted to get on Draco's nerves and have him set Crabbe or Goyle, the two Slytherin Gorillas on them, but part of it might have been that Draco himself was scary. After all, his father was a known convict, an escaped Death Eater, and a wealthy, powerful wizard. Ginny, though, wasn't afraid of him. She didn't seem to be afraid of anything.

Of course, had Draco been confronted with the Dark Lord when he was eleven and possessed by him and almost killed by a giant, murderous snake, then he might have also not been afraid of anything. 

For having been possessed and almost killed, Ginny seemed normal and well-balanced.

For having been raised in a family with six brothers, a Muggle-obsessed father, and a dumpy mother, Ginny seemed normal and well-balanced.

Draco sniggered to himself at the second thought. Ohh, that family. What he wouldn't do to hex them all - well, all but Ginny. No, Ginny he liked.

_I do NOT like Ginny!_

For not liking someone, Draco sure couldn't keep her out of his head.

_You don't like Potter and yet you think of ways for him to die horrible and painful deaths fall the time._

But Potter was very different from Ginny. He didn't think about Potter in the same way he thought about Ginny. 

Heaving a great sigh, Draco stuffed his wand into his back pocket, the warm air ceasing to blow on him. He felt the bitter cold wind hit his cheeks and nose through the crack in the window, but that was all right because the pain from the winter air was real. As the students began to file back in before they risked staying out after-hours, Draco thought of fire and chocolate.

XXXXXXX

Hermione didn't utter another word about her potion again, or at least not in front of Ginny. But Ginny's focus seemed to be on other things. For instance, she noticed that the day after their encounter in the library, Malfoy began to sit on the other side of the Slytherin table, facing the wall; Ginny was no longer able to meet his eye during meals. She also began seeing him all over school with Pansy. Usually he seemed to be trying to run away from her, but lately he seemed to walk everywhere with her. Although Ginny did observe, with much pleasure, that Malfoy had a constant look of boredom upon his face whenever Pansy talked to him.

She was all too aware of him when she passed him in the corridors. She knew she was mad for having kissed him, but she apologised for it, so why was it still on her mind? They sat next to each other during Christmas dinner and he seemed to be a normal human being instead of Draco Malfoy. Since then, though... 

'Are you listening?' whispered Colin.

'Huh?'

Colin groaned in mock aggravation. 'Hagrid's been talking about Jarveys! Aren't you taking notes?'

'No,' said Ginny. 'I thought we were learning about Clabberts.'

'Clabberts are our project for this month, but now we're learning about Jarveys.'

'Oh, whatever,' said Ginny, whose eyes had strayed over towards the castle entrance. Her brother had Herbology this period; she wondered whether or not it was with the Slytherins.

'Ginny?'

Ginny continued to look at the castle. Well, of course they wouldn't be coming out of the castle; they'd already be in one of the greenhouses.

'Ginny?'

Still, what if-

'Ginny! Are yeh payin' attention?'

Ginny turned her head back to Hagrid. 'Er, what?'

'Five points from Gryffindor. I asked yeh about Jarveys. Can yeh tell the class 'bout Jarveys?'

'Er, no,' said Ginny. 'I don't feel well, I think I'm going to go to the hospital wing.' Before Hagrid could say anything, Ginny picked up her bag from the snowy ground, clutched her cloak around her neck and hurried off towards the castle. 

Once inside the entrance hall, Ginny paused. She really was going mad. Why was the kiss with Malfoy affecting her like this? 

When she thirteen, Michael Corner asked her out. She accepted and the whole summer after third year she wrote to him, using Errol or Pig, when Ron wasn't paying attention. Then, on the first day back to school, immediately following dinner, Michael walked with her around the castle and kissed her on the mouth. It was her first kiss, but it didn't preoccupy her thoughts... not like this.

After that Dean had surprised her by asking if he could draw her. So, she sat down at a table with him in the common room and had the first mind-blowing conversation of her life. It was several weeks later when he kissed her, finally, after first asking her for permission. It was nice, much nicer than Michael Corner's kisses. The relationship with Dean lasted about as long as the one with Michael had, only this time she was much more emotionally involved so when they broke up, she was a bit stunned. She put on a brave-face and she didn't think that anyone suspected she was upset. She didn't stay upset for long, though. 

Right after Dean was Harry. They had been friends before, but somehow he was able to comfort her in ways that no one else could, so their friendship grew stronger. Ginny was tired of playing games with him, but then after the final Quidditch match of the season, Harry came in late to the celebration party and kissed her right in front of everyone. They didn't stay at the party; instead, Harry led her out onto the grounds, behind a tree near the lake and properly snogged her senseless.

She kissed Harry more than she kissed the other boys. They did things together she had never done before. They shared a connection, although looking back now, Ginny attributed a lot of the connection to both of them having a past with Voldemort. They understood each other; they were what each other needed. When they broke up, Ginny didn't feel as upset about it as she probably should have. Truth was, she _understood_. Harry needed time to deal with Voldemort. Deep down, she figured that if Harry came out of this alive, then they would get back together. Harry was looking out for her, as he always had.

Now, though, she wanted Malfoy, as sick as that sounded. He had proven to be different than she first thought. He was crass, arrogant, and a bigot, but there was something underlying him... something that made him different. He didn't hit girls. It seemed like such a normal thing to say, but it was _Malfoy's_ principle. He didn't hit girls. He didn't curse them or hex them or kill them. He didn't even approve of his father doing it. And when he found out that Voldemort was a Muggle, he had problems with it. Malfoy wasn't a mindless clone like she always thought he was.

Gathering herself, Ginny walked over to the staircases and almost crashed right into Hermione.

'Are you all right?' Ginny asked, alarmed at the look of panic on Hermione's face.

'Oh, er, I'm all right, yes,' said Hermione. After a short pause, she said, 'No, I'm not. Our plants haven't matured as quickly as Professor Sprout anticipated so class was cancelled for this afternoon. Your brother and Malfoy got into an argument on the way back to the castle and Malfoy challenged him to a duel and now I can't find him!'

'Who?'

'Your brother! Harry's gone as well - I'm sure he agreed to be Ron's second.'

'My brother isn't stupid enough to duel Malfoy.' 

Hermione nodded. 'He is! I know he is. And I've no idea where he's gone to. Last I heard, Ron said he was going to go to the library. I should have known then something was wrong. Oh, why does your brother have to be so _stupid_.'

'It's not stupidity!' snapped Ginny. 'It's pride, and if he said he's going to the library, don't you think that's the first place you should look?'

'I did-'

'Oh, just move,' said Ginny irritably. Reoccurring thoughts of Malfoy had cost her five house points from Hagrid, but he wasn't going to cost her a brother if she could help it. She raced up the stairs with Hermione at her heels. All the way up to the fourth floor she ran. At the top of the staircase she stopped so abruptly that Hermione ploughed right into her back.

'Oh, I'm sorry!' cried Hermione.

'Shh! Listen. Everyone's in classes, yeah? So we should be able to hear if anyone's duelling.'

Hermione's head whipped around to the left. 'I hear Ron's voice,' she said. 

Following Hermione, Ginny took off towards the row of empty classrooms. Hermione yanked open the door and raced inside with Ginny right behind her. Sure enough, the stupid git she called a brother was in there with Harry and on the other side of the room was Malfoy and Goyle.

'Stay _out_ of this, Hermione!' Ron cried.

'Ronald Weasley!' shouted Hermione, stomping her foot once against the floor, her hands on her hips and leaning slightly forward. 'Don't you dare duel Malfoy - or anyone else!'

'I _said_ , stay _out_ of this!'

'Why in the name of Merlin are you duelling in the first place?' When Ron didn't answer, Hermione added, 'Don't ignore me!'

'Weasel takes personal offence when I call you a Mudblood,' said Malfoy, looking rather bored and leaning against a dusty desk. 'Can we resume this, please? I like to make my murders before dinner.'

Hermione's eyes grew large. 'No one is murdering anyone else!' 

'Oh, hush up, Hermione,' snapped Ron. 'We're going until one of us passes out. D'you really think we'd duel to the death? No one could protect us from Azkaban if _that_ happened.'

Hermione didn't seem relieved in the slightest bit; if anything she appeared more angry than before. 

'But _duelling_! You could be ripped of your prefect status if you were-'

'Very true, Miss Granger,' drawled a voice from behind Ginny. She turned around to see McGonagall looking especially stern and severe. 'And I have the power to do so. We'll discuss this in my office immediately after dinner, shall we? And fifty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Each.'

'Each!' cried Ginny. 'But I wasn't even duelling! I just came to help Hermione find my brother!'

'I'm warning you, Miss Weasley, to bite your tongue.'

'This is wholly unfair! What shite.'

'Another twenty,' snapped McGonagall, looking angry and appalled.

Ginny was incensed. She opened her mouth again, but McGonagall interrupted her.

'Miss Weasley, would you like to have another detention disembowelling toads for one of Madam Pomfrey's healing potions? Or fresh tree squirrels? I know she has a new batch of tree squirrels she asked Slughorn to deal with. Because, unless I am mistake, which I'm quite sure I am not, you are supposed to be in class. And since you don't look as though you are on the way to the hospital wing because you are sick or maimed, I have to assume you are skipping class.'

'If you please, I'd rather serve detention for you.'

'No, I believe your brother and Mr Malfoy will enjoy a nice long detention with me. I seem to have quite a few pincushions that seem to be permanently stuck as hedgehogs with pins sticking out of their backsides. It might take a whole day's worth of work if you don't have top marks in Transfiguration. Miss Weasley, why don't you go to the dungeons at seven o'clock.' 

Ginny simply nodded.

To Malfoy and Ron, McGonagall said, 'My office, immediately after dinner.'

Ginny wanted to scream. Hermione looked as though she was going to cry and fled the room. 

Ron groaned. 'Now she's _really_ never going to speak to me again.'

'Oh, shut up and go after her,' said Harry.

'And be yelled at? No thank you.'

' _Ron_ ,' said Ginny very tensely. 'Go after her. What was the duel about? Because Malfoy called her a Mudblood?'

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Malfoy's mouth twist up into an evil grin while Ron nodded.

'So, tell her you were duelling over her.'

'But I-'

'If you _don't_ go after her, she's really never going to speak to you, mate,' said Harry.

'Oh, fine,' said Ron. 'But I don't even know where she's gone.'

'Take a wild guess, Ron,' said Ginny. 'She's your best friend. Where do you _think_ she's gone?'

Ron nodded and jogged out of the room. Ginny turned and looked at Harry, her hands on her hips much like Hermione had done. 

'You should have stop him instead of playing his second.'

'Me? You're going to yell at me now?'

'Yes. You should have known better.'

'You sound like Hermione.'

'Perhaps Hermione was right about this. We lost two hundred twenty house points.'

'No, those last twenty points are your own damn fault,' said Harry. He walked over to the doorway and stopped. 'Are you coming?'

'Not with you.'

'Well, I'm not leaving you in here with Ferret Face and Gorilla Boy.'

'We're leaving,' said Malfoy. He snapped his fingers at Goyle. 'Go on, then, Goyle.' Goyle nodded and headed out of the room. Malfoy went to the door and held out his hand to usher Harry out. 'After you, Potty.'

Harry gave Malfoy a snarling look, but headed out of the door nevertheless. Ginny expected Malfoy to leave as well, but he didn't. He turned around and looked at her, leaning against the doorframe, wand in hand, arms crossed over his chest. 

'You certainly have a knack for getting detention, baby Weasel.'

'Fuck you, Malfoy.'

Malfoy smiled.

'I don't have time for this. I need to go and grab dinner before I have to go to the dungeons. I'm already terribly behind in my homework and I have _another_ Muggle Studies essay due tomorrow. So I'm not in the mood for your shit.'

Malfoy began to laugh. What was so funny, Ginny had no idea. She felt the tears pool behind her eyes. He just made her so angry! She lost points in Care of Magical Creatures because she kept thinking of him and now she lost seventy points from McGonagall _and_ got detention because he wanted to duel her brother. And still, she would have forgiven him if he'd just tell her that he wasn't sorry that she kissed him.

'Are you crying?' said Malfoy, apparently appalled.

' _Yes_ ,' said Ginny.

Malfoy backed up out of the doorway. 'I don't know what to do with crying girls.'

'Just move so I can go down to dinner.'

Malfoy moved and Ginny brushed past him, running down the corridor towards the stairs. She didn't look back.

XXXXXXX 

Ginny went down to Slughorn's office after shoving as much food into her mouth as she could. His office was freezing cold and dark. A single candle was lit on his desk, beating light against Slughorn and the wall behind him which was full of shelves containing bottled potions and ingredients. 

'It's dungeon four,' said Slughorn, looking up from a thick stack of parchment in front of him. 'I wouldn't have asked for such a harsh punishment for you, but McGonagall seemed to insist.'

Ginny frowned. 

'Yes, that was my reaction as well. Still! Duelling, skiving off classes, and swearing in front of the Headmistress - I'm surprised you didn't use that famous Bat-Bogey Hex of yours, m'dear!'

Ginny tried to smile, but she was sure it looked like more of a grimace instead.

'Now, be off with you. It's in dungeon four.'

Ginny kept her mouth shut and left Slughorn's office and went into dungeon four. On the chalkboard had written out her instructions.

_1\. Take one squirrel from the box._  
2\. Make a horizontal incision from on eye to the other.   
3\. Make a vertical incision directly above and below the middle of the horizontal one.  
4\. Peel back flesh.  
5\. Remove eyes fully intact.  
6\. Put eyes in jars full of Paralysis Draught.  
7\. Clean desks and Vanish all squirrel carcases when finished. 

Ginny made a face at the instructions, feeling as though she really might throw up all over the dungeon floor. When she looked around, the box of squirrels was empty and several jars of squirrel eyes were made up. Her detention was already completed. 

_What the..?_

Sitting on top of one of the desks was a Muggle Studies book - not hers, but the same edition she used - and a stack of parchment with a quill beside it. 

_But who..?_

It had to be Malfoy, she thought. He was the only one who knew she had an essay due tomorrow... unless Harry overheard her before she ran away from the fourth-floor classroom. And Harry _had_ missed dinner...

Not caring who completed her detention for her, Ginny sat down at the desk, opened up the book, and began her assignment.

XXXXXXX

**To Be Continued...**

XXXXXXX


	4. Secret Kisses

XXXXXXX  
  
 **Chapter Four: Secret Kisses**  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
'I need you to do me a favour,' said Ron.  
  
Ginny looked up from the letter she was writing to her mum. It was Saturday and in thirty minutes all the third-years and above would be leaving for Hogsmeade.  
  
'What kind of favour?' asked Ginny.  
  
Ron sat down on the sofa next to her. Ginny narrowed her eyes slightly. Her brother wore an old blue jumper of Bill's that made his eyes stand out and a nice pair of trousers instead of his usual jeans.  
  
'You look nice,' said Ginny. Then, with a more sceptical tone, she asked, 'Why do you look so nice?'  
  
'Er... Well, that has to do with my favour.'  
  
'All right, then, what is it?'  
  
'I need you to go with Harry to Hogsmeade.'  
  
'What? Why can't _you_ go with Harry?'  
  
'Because I have a date to Hogsmeade already.'  
  
'So that's why you look so nice.' Ginny smiled. 'You asked Hermione to Hogsmeade, then, did you? Good show.'  
  
'How d'you know it's Hermione?'  
  
'Is it?'  
  
Ron's ears turned red. 'Yes.'  
  
Ginny folded up her letter and smiled. 'So, how'd you ask her?'  
  
The blush from Ron's ears extended to his face. 'When I caught up with her after she found us trying to duel - y'know, this isn't any of your business. Will you please just help me? I haven't told Harry yet and we planned on going to Honeydukes.'  
  
'What makes you think I don't already have my own date to Hogsmeade?'  
  
'Do you?'  
  
Ginny considered lying for about half a second, but she shook her head instead. 'No. I'll talk to him about hanging out with me there. _But_ I already promised Colin and Luna I would go with them, so Harry will have to be content with walking around with the three of us.'  
  
'I'm sure he'll be fine,' said Ron, standing up.  
  
'You owe me for taking my ex-boyfriend to Hogsmeade.'  
  
'Do _me_ a favour?'  
  
'Sure.'  
  
'Stop pretending as though the two of you aren't a couple. I know you've been snogging each other since Bill's wedding.'  
  
Ron didn't say anything, although he did turn a bit red around the ears.  
  
'Believe me, Hermione will be happier for it.'  
  
Hearing that seemed to make Ron come around a bit. 'Oh, all right. I, er, have to meet Hermione by the Great Hall. Harry should be coming down soon.'  
  
'All right,' said Ginny. She watched her brother leave the Gryffindor common room and smiled to herself. Finally, he and Hermione were on the right track. Thank Merlin. Harry came down the stairs not too long afterward wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and jeans with old trainers. He had a thick, Muggle coat in his hand.  
  
'Hey, where's Ron?'  
  
'D'you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?' asked Ginny.  
  
Harry's eyes widened slightly. 'Are you sure? I thought we agreed we weren't working out?'  
  
'Oh, I don't want to go on a _date_ with you,' said Ginny with a laugh. 'Besides, I know you've been writing to that Muggle girl who lives on Hermione's street.'  
  
'We've only been back to school a week,' said Harry. 'How do you know about her already?'  
  
'Hermione mentioned something about her and then I've seen you sit in the corner and shield your parchment whenever someone walks by. Who is she?'  
  
'Her name's Eleanor... Ellie... She figured out I was a wizard right away. Her sister-in-law's a witch.'  
  
'Interesting,' commented Ginny.  
  
'Are you all right with that? I mean, I know what I said after Dumbledore's funeral - it's not like that with her, though - it was only a fling and-'  
  
'Shut up, Harry. You're allowed a holiday fling with whomever you choose.'  
  
'We're only writing now because-' Harry stopped. 'Well, I don't know why.'  
  
'Because you fancy her.'  
  
Harry shook his head. 'No - well, I do a bit, but nothing like...' He trailed off and looked pointedly at the rug.  
  
'Hermione told me she was older than you.'  
  
'Yes,' said Harry, blushing. 'She's twenty-one.'  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'Tell me about her.'  
  
'Would that be weird? Me telling you about a girl I, y'know...?'  
  
'I'm all right with it if you are.'  
  
'Are you going to tell me about whoever you fancy?'  
  
'No,' said Ginny.  
  
'I'll tell you about Ellie when you tell me about your bloke.'  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'Fair enough. Ready to go to Hogsmeade?'  
  
'Sure - wait, you never told me _why_ you want me to go to Hogsmeade with you.'  
  
'Ron asked me to. He finally asked Hermione out on an official date and they're going together.'  
  
'Why couldn't Ron just tell me that himself?' asked Harry with a bemused look on his face.  
  
'Oh, who knows. He's probably embarrassed about it. Silly, that. I told Colin and Luna I would go with them to Hogsmeade... although, knowing them they've probably already left. We'll find them there, I'm sure.'  
  
Harry nodded. 'Sure.'  
  
Ginny picked up her Hogwarts cloak from where it was sitting beside her and they headed off towards Hogsmeade. The ground was covered in snow, even though it was no longer snowing. The air was still but bitterly cold and within a few seconds, Ginny had lost the feeling in the end of her nose. Harry had to cast a warming and drying spell on their shoes and socks; the snow was so deep that when they stepped, it came up well past their ankles.  
  
'D'you want to get a Butterbeer to warm up before we go on to the shops?'  
  
'Well, I really ought to find Colin and Luna...' Ginny trailed off. She was rather cold. 'Oh, all right. That'd be nice.'  
  
Harry took her arm and they made their way through the snow to the Three Broomsticks. It was crowded inside; every table was full. Harry reached into his pocket and handed Ginny four Sickles.  
  
'Why don't you get us two Butterbeers and I'll go see if I can't find some empty seats at a table.'  
  
'Wait,' said Ginny before Harry had a chance to leave. 'Don't sit with Ron - he's with Hermione over there in the corner. Let them have their date, all right?'  
  
Harry nodded. 'Sure.' He headed off towards one of the tables in the centre of the pub while Ginny went to the bar to order two Butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta. Once she had the two bottles in her hands she turned around to look for Harry. He'd sat down at a table with Ernie MacMillian and Susan Bones. Ginny made her way over to the table and sat down. She knew Harry was friends with them ever since he started the DA. She sat down the bottles on the table and took off her cloak before she sat down.  
  
'Hi, Ginny,' said Susan sweetly. 'How're you?'  
  
'Fine.'  
  
'How's Quidditch going?'  
  
'Oh...' Ginny shrugged. 'It's all right. McGonagall's still miffed that we lost against Slytherin, but I think we can still win the Cup.'  
  
'I haven't really seen much of you around school now that there's no longer DA meetings,' said Susan.  
  
'Oh, well, that's true.'  
  
'Why aren't you doing the DA again this year, Harry?' asked Ernie.  
  
'There's no need. We have a competent Defence teacher this year and now that I'm back on the Quidditch team I don't really have the time. NEWT classes are about to kill me. This is the hardest year yet.'  
  
'Harder than your OWL year?' asked Ginny.  
  
Harry nodded. 'Definitely.'  
  
Ginny groaned.  
  
Ernie laughed. 'It wasn't that hard, now was it?'  
  
'Not that hard? That's easy for _you_ to say,' said Harry, 'you're Head Boy.'  
  
Ernie just smiled.  
  
'I didn't know you two were together,' said Susan. 'I'm glad you have a girl, though, Harry after what happened last...' She paused.  
  
'After what?' said Ernie with a confused look on his face.  
  
'Nothing,' answered Harry. Ginny got the distinct feeling Susan was going to make a slip about Dumbledore's death. 'And we're not together,' continued Harry. 'We just came today because Ron and Hermione are on a date.'  
  
'Ohh!' squealed Susan. 'So they're _finally_ getting together? Thank Merlin!'  
  
Harry and Ginny both laughed.  
  
'They're so cute together.'  
  
Ginny made a face. 'My brother... cute? Gross.'  
  
'Hey, I'm going to the loo, be back in a moment.' Harry got up and left, touching Ginny's shoulder as he walked by.  
  
Susan leaned in closer towards Ginny. 'You're _sure_ you and Harry aren't together?'  
  
'Yes. Er, why?'  
  
'The way he looks at you... watches you. I've seen it before - when we're at school, I mean. Then, you two were arm in arm when you walked in and just now when he left...'  
  
'Oh.' Ginny shrugged. 'That's how we are, I suppose. We're very close.'  
  
'Apparently,' said Ernie with a somewhat devilish smile.  
  
'Hey! It's not like that!'  
  
'If you say so,' said Ernie. 'We know about keeping things a secret.'  
  
'What do you mean?' asked Ginny.  
  
'My auntie told me to stay away from boys before she died. NEWT year is too important. My mum has picked up on her sister's old advice.'  
  
'If she knew you were dating the Head Boy, what would she say?'  
  
Susan shrugged. 'Don't know. Oh, don't look now! Here comes Malfoy. I bet he's going to sit at the table next to us - it just emptied.'  
  
Ginny turned around and watched Malfoy enter the Three Broomsticks. He took off his hat and smoothed back his pale hair. He had on an expensive-looking black jumper with sleek trousers and dragon hide boots. After he took another step into the pub, Daphne entered behind him. He said something in her ear and she nodded and walked to the bar. Malfoy walked towards the empty table next to Ginny as Crabbe and Goyle came into the pub and followed him.  
  
Ginny turned back around just as Harry sat down beside her. It took all her willpower not to look at Malfoy's table.  
  
'He's such a git,' Harry whispered in her ear. 'I cannot stand him.'  
  
Ginny swallowed. All she could manage to say was, 'Yeah.'  
  
'Hey, Malfoy,' said Crabbe loudly, 'it's Scarhead and Carrot Face.'  
  
Ginny couldn't help but laugh out loud. _Carrot Face?_ She leaned over the back of her chair and looked at Crabbe - his fat face looked surprised.  
  
'I'm sorry, but did you just call me Carrot Face?'  
  
'Er...' He looked at Malfoy for help.  
  
'You mean because I have a lot of freckles, yeah? Not because my face looks like a carrot.'  
  
'Uh... er...'  
  
'I mean, my face isn't actually _orange_ , is it?' Ginny tried to put on her sweetest smile. 'My hair is, I suppose, right?'  
  
Crabbe looked as though he had no idea what to say. He looked at Malfoy again for help.  
  
'I'm just trying to understand why you would call me Carrot Face is all.'  
  
'Uh...'  
  
'Or you could just continue to grunt, that works well for you.'  
  
'Keep your girl's mouth shut, Potter,' said Malfoy, his eyes resting on Ginny. 'She moves it entirely too much.'  
  
Harry stood up. 'Leave her alone, Malfoy.'  
  
'Excuse me?' Malfoy said, his eyes slowly moving from Ginny to Harry.  
  
'I'm not starting with you,' said Harry. 'Come on, Ginny, we still need to find Colin and Luna.'  
  
Ginny stood up. She picked up her cloak and headed towards the exit with Harry behind her. She opened up the door and cast a look back; Malfoy was looking at Daphne who had returned with four bottles of Butterbeer. He didn't look towards the door at all.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
Ginny, Harry, and Colin separated from Luna at the castle and went on to their common room.  
  
'I think my toes are frozen,' said Colin, sitting down on the sofa. Looking up at Ginny he asked, 'Did you feed the Clabbert today?'  
  
' _Fuck_!' cried Ginny. 'What time is it?'  
  
'Nine-thirty,' said Harry, looking up at the clock on the wall. 'Past curfew.'  
  
Ginny hadn't forgotten to feed the Clabbert once this month. Somehow during her day in Hogsmeade it completely slipped her mind. If their Clabbert died, both she and Colin would receive Ds on their project for Care of Magical Creatures. Even Hagrid couldn't find an excuse to pass them if the project itself was dead.  
  
Harry took Ginny by the elbow and led her towards the boys' dormitory stairs. 'Come on.'  
  
Ginny was confused, but she followed Harry up the stairs. He walked all the way to the seventh-year boys dormitory. Only Seamus was inside.  
  
'Hey, mate, can you give us a minute?'  
  
Seamus looked up from the magazine he was reading on the floor next to his bed. 'Aye.' He got up and walked to the door. 'Just make sure you cast a Silencing Charm, yeah? Last week Dean and Parvati were in here and _damn_ were they loud.'  
  
'Of course,' said Harry dismissively.  
  
Seamus left and closed the door behind him. Going to his trunk, Harry bent down and opened it; he took out his Invisibility Cloak and handed it to Ginny.  
  
'Here. Take this and go feed your... whatever it's called.'  
  
'A Clabbert,' said Ginny. She took the cloak out of Harry's hand and smiled. 'Thanks. I mean it.'  
  
'Yeah, no problem.'  
  
Ginny hesitated before going out and into the stairwell.  
  
'What's wrong?'  
  
'Nothing, just... you're so nice to me. Thank you.'  
  
'We're friends,' said Harry, as if that explained everything.  
  
'I know, but it was something Susan said at the Three Broomsticks... You're sure we're just friends, right?'  
  
'Yeah.' Harry looked very confused.  
  
'I wanted to make sure you weren't being nice to me because you wanted something more. I mean, you have that girl on Hermione's street, yeah?'  
  
'Not for things that matter.'  
  
'Oh. I'm probably only being silly, then. Thanks for the cloak.' She chewed on her bottom lip and looked at Harry.  
  
'Ginny, we've had this conversation before. We _both_ decided it was best if we stayed friends.'  
  
'No, _you_ decided,' said Ginny bitterly. 'I only agreed because I hoped you'd come back to me!'  
  
'Gin...'  
  
'But I'm over you now,' said Ginny. 'In fact, I fancy someone else _completely_.'  
  
'Once Voldemort is gone I can go back to being emotionally involved. I don't want emotions right now. That's not what I need and I didn't want to pull you along with that. It wouldn't have been fair. I never said I stopped fancying you.'  
  
'I thought as much...'  
  
Harry nodded. 'Fancying each other was never our problem.'  
  
'No, it wasn't.'  
  
'You don't still fancy me, do you?'  
  
Ginny shook her head. 'No, I just said I didn't.'  
  
'Then what's the problem?'  
  
'I wanted to make sure you didn't still fancy me.'  
  
Harry sniggered. 'I see. Now you know. Now what?'  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'I don't know.'  
  
'Me neither. And I'm only being nice because we're friends - not only because I like you. I'd let Hermione or Ron borrow the cloak if they needed it, but if you don't want it, then give it back.'  
  
Ginny held on to the cloak. 'No, that's all right. I'll use it. And we _are_ friends.'  
  
Harry nodded and Ginny left the dormitory.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
Draco rubbed his eyes. The words were blurring in front of him, but he had to finish the essay for Slughorn before tomorrow. Slughorn had made Draco Quidditch captain since he had been on the team the longest and for some reason Draco had booked the pitch for the entire day on Sunday. Before Christmas holiday he noticed the team was beginning to look sloppy - Crabbe and Goyle were not using their size effectively and whenever the Bludger came near them, they hit it just to hit it instead of at a particular player. Draco thought they needed an entire day to work on their flying and practise plays. Fortunately, the students in Slytherin treated Draco as though he was a leader. They looked to him for decision-making; even Blaise and Theo did so, although they did it in a much more subtle way than Crabbe or Goyle who were completely pathetic and wouldn't be able to tie their shoes if Draco didn't give them the go-ahead.  
  
The common room felt as though it was closing in on him, so Draco slipped out and went to the deserted classroom on the fourth floor. He knew it was well past curfew, but he didn't care. He'd stay there all night if he had to. Transfiguration was a strong suit of his and conjuring up a bed and throwing an Imperturbable around the room would not be a problem. In fact, Draco wasn't sure why he'd never done that before. He might get a better night's sleep if he didn't have to listen to Goyle's snoring.  
  
Just as he decided to put up an Imperturbable Charm on the room, the door opened and closed, but Draco didn't see anyone enter. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion and stood up from his desk.  
  
' _Accio cloak_ ,' he said, pointing his wand straight ahead near the door. A lightweight cloak flew across the room and landed at his feet. Draco was surprised to see the baby Weasel in front of him, looking rather afraid. 'What are _you_ doing here?'  
  
'Er...'  
  
Ginny still looked frightened. Draco didn't have time for snivelling little girls. He wished she could just spit it out. Normally she had no trouble working her mouth and talking non-stop.  
  
'In Care of Magical Creatures we're taking care of Clabberts as a class project... only I forgot to feed mine tonight, so I used my Invisibility Cloak to sneak down to Hagrid's and give it some food.'  
  
'And you forgot how to get back to your house?' said Draco, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
'No, the lady who usually sits in the portrait in front of Gryffindor wasn't there. I waited for thirty minutes and she didn't show up. One of the other portraits said she's been leaving every night at ten-thirty when all the students are supposed to be in the house and goes and visits one of her friends... So, I'm stuck. I don't know how to get back in Gryffindor.'  
  
'That's a right mess you're in then, isn't it?'  
  
Ginny nodded. 'Can I have my Invisibility Cloak?'  
  
Draco looked down at his feet. He bent down and picked up the cloak and examined it. 'This is Potter's, isn't it?' Ginny didn't answer and he took her silence to be a yes. 'Why'd you choose this classroom?'  
  
'I knew where it was - that and I saw Mrs Norris downstairs and I wanted to find a place where I could stay and not get caught.' Suddenly, Ginny paled. 'You're not going to turn me in for being out after hours, are you?'  
  
'And get in trouble myself? No.'  
  
'But you're a prefect, you have an excuse-'  
  
'No,' interrupted Draco, 'I'm not a prefect anymore. McGonagall stripped me of my prefect privileges when I was caught trying to duel your brother.'  
  
'Oh,' said Ginny. 'Then, why are you here?'  
  
'Goyle snores.'  
  
'But you have that sleep draught that Madam Pomfrey gave you,' said Ginny.  
  
Draco had forgotten all about Ginny witnessing Madam Pomfrey giving him the potion. 'Oh, well, I needed to work on an essay. There's Quidditch practise all day tomorrow and I like to get a good night's sleep before I begin the school week.'  
  
Ginny nodded. 'Can I stay?'  
  
'Stay where?'  
  
'Here, silly.'  
  
Did she really just call him _silly_? Draco felt his neck heating up. 'Why?'  
  
'I don't want to get caught and given _another_ detention. I've de-bowelled and de-eyed enough shite for Slughorn and Madam Pomfrey this year.'  
  
Draco thought a moment. 'All right, but I'm putting up an Imperturbable Charm so I won't get caught in here after hours. I don't care about you.'  
  
 _Oh, smooth_ , Draco thought. _You don't care about her? Then why aren't you kicking her out of your classroom? You've been coming here for years and she just showed up!_  
  
'Thank you,' said Ginny. 'Oh, and thank you for doing my detention.'  
  
Draco sat down at his desk and looked at the parchment on it. His handwriting was small, cramped, but neat. This was an E essay for sure. 'What detention?' he asked, not looking up at Ginny.  
  
'The last one... you jarred all the squirrel eyes for me so I could do my Muggle Studies essay.'  
  
'I have no idea what you are talking about.'  
  
'Of course you do. You're really smart in Potions. I bet it took you thirty minutes to do all that. It would have taken me several hours.'  
  
'I did no such thing. Perhaps your precious Potter did it for you.'  
  
When Draco looked up, it seemed as though Ginny was considering this, but then she shook her head.  
  
'No, I don't think he did. Besides, he's not my "precious Potter".'  
  
'You were arm in arm at Hogsmeade today.'  
  
'So? We're only friends.'  
  
'You were awfully _friendly_ with your _friend_.'  
  
'He _is_ my friend!' cried Ginny. 'Look, Harry and I dated last year when I was a fifth-year, but it didn't work out. We weren't good together as a couple, but we're good mates now. Why do you care anyway? You were all over Daphne.'  
  
Draco sniggered. 'Daphne? Hardly. She's dating Zabini.'  
  
'So why wasn't she at Hogsmeade with him?'  
  
'He had detention with McGonagall for turning a rabbit into a thong and suggesting that Tracey Davis model them for the class.'  
  
'Who's Tracey Davis?' asked Ginny.  
  
'A seventh-year,' said Draco. 'You haven't heard of her? She's the really large girl in Slytherin with the pockmarked face.'  
  
'Oh... her... I feel a bit sorry for her. Does she have any friends?'  
  
'Would _you_ be friends with her? She's practically the same size as Crabbe.'  
  
'That's sad,' said Ginny, looking truly distressed. 'She must feel awful.'  
  
'Oh, come off it, she's a Death Eater.'  
  
'What?'  
  
Draco shrugged. 'She was inducted the same time Theo was. They're cousins.'  
  
Ginny was silent. She looked as though she was deep in thought.  
  
'So what were you doing in Hogsmeade on a date with Potter if you're not dating him?'  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. 'We weren't on a date. He was supposed to go in with Ron and Hermione, but they decided to go into town on a date instead, so Harry came with me. And I still think you did my detention.'  
  
'Why on earth would I do _your_ detention for you?'  
  
'Because I cried in front of you. Because you fancy me.'  
  
Draco's mouth hung open. Fancy her? _Fancy her?_ For Merlin's sake she was a _Weasley_!  
  
'Why the fuck would I fancy _you_?'  
  
Ginny shrugged. 'I don't rightly know. Why the fuck would you do my detention?'  
  
'I didn't do it!' shouted Draco.  
  
'All right, you didn't do it.'  
  
'You don't believe me.'  
  
Ginny shook her head. 'No.'  
  
Draco looked at her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, with bits of it around her face. Her shirt was, of course, old, but it was fitted and showed off about an inch of her stomach because her jeans were too big and hung off her hips and gathered in bunches around her heels. Her hands were on her hips and her brown eyes looked wide and observing and suddenly Draco felt very aware of how he was sitting and what he looked like. He quickly sat up straight and fixed his jaw. He would not give her a reason to think he had done her silly detention for her.  
  
But, of course, the truth was... he had. It was a fit of madness. He felt _guilty_. Which was preposterous because guilt was another one of those useless emotions. Because of him - and her brother, couldn't forget him - she had got detention and a large amount of house points taken away. And then, she _cried_. In a moment of weakness, Draco had gone to the dungeons, jarred up all the squirrel eyes according to Slughorn's written instructions and then used a relocation charm Flitwick had taught the seventh-years to move one of the Muggle Studies books from the library to the dungeon. Then, he left the dungeon classroom and ran as fast as he could to the common room.  
  
He was mad and that was the only explanation for it. He certainly didn't _fancy_ this girl. Although, since their first night in detention together before Christmas, his attraction to Daphne had practically diminished. She was still pretty, but the need to ravish her no longer needed to be suppressed. Used to, Draco would look at her and remember the way they used to touch one another, softly at first until it became hurried and desperate, and have to excuse himself from the room in order to calm himself down. His body would get worked up and sometimes he'd even grow hard.  
  
Since the detention, though, he hadn't felt like that. He was beginning to think that it was never _Daphne_ he wanted, but a girl in general to help feed his physical appetite.  
  
...Right?  
  
Finally, Draco spoke up, 'You don't fancy me, do you?' He said it with a disgusted tone.  
  
Ginny shrugged and Draco felt his pulse stop.  
  
'I don't know.'  
  
'That's a shite answer.'  
  
'Well, I don't. You're mean to me, but you're nice to me as well.'  
  
'I didn't do your detention for you,' said Draco.  
  
'All right,' said Ginny, 'you didn't do my detention for me.' Rolling her eyes, she continued, 'But you talk to me and it's not to just throw insults at me, either. You're almost human around me. And I liked kissing you.'  
  
'That's disgusting.'  
  
'Oh, well, I'm sorry I disgust you. Other boys don't find me disgusting - I'm surprised you do.' She pulled out her wand and pointed at the desk next to Draco's. ' _Scourgify_.' And the dust disappeared. Instead of sitting in the chair, she sat on the desktop, her legs dangling above the stone floor, swinging back and forth very slowly. 'You're forbidden. I'm not _supposed_ to fancy you. Not that that adds any fuel to the fire, mind you, but it's made me force myself not to think about you.'  
  
Draco felt light-headed. He had to remind himself to breathe.  
  
'Don't worry, I can always Obliviate you later if I'm freaking you out or anything.'  
  
'For Merlin's sake, Weasley!'  
  
'Sorry,' said Ginny sheepishly. 'I was only kidding. Who _do_ you fancy?'  
  
'No one.'  
  
'Liar.'  
  
'Why do you always call me that?'  
  
'Because you are. I can tell when you're lying. Your eyebrow twitches.'  
  
Draco frowned.  
  
'Is it Daphne? I used to see you around with her a lot.'  
  
'No.'  
  
'But you used to date her.'  
  
Draco shook his head. 'No, I never did.'  
  
'Really? I'm surprised.'  
  
'You shouldn't be. She's been with Blaise for a while now.'  
  
'Hmm.' Ginny looked as though the wheels in her head were turning at a rapid rate.  
  
'We had an agreement, Daphne and I. She knew that Blaise had been with girls before her and it was important to her to remain in a relationship with a member of the Zabini family - they're very influential. So I taught her things. She'd never done anything with any boy before. So our arrangement was beneficial to her. But I never fancied her.'  
  
Ginny's eyes widened. 'You had a girl who would give you sex with no strings?'  
  
Draco almost said no, that there wasn't any sex, but he caught himself in time and nodded. 'Yes, that was the arrangement.'  
  
'Wow. I'm impressed.'  
  
'Are you, now.'  
  
'Well, it's very Slytherin of you to accept something like that. You can only benefit from it. You get the perks of having a relationship but you don't have any of the attachments. Whenever it's broken off, no one gets hurt. Very Slytherin to watch out for your feelings like that. Oh, and very Slytherin of Daphne to do the most fucked-up thing possible to keep a boyfriend.'  
  
'You sound as though you don't believe me,' said Draco.  
  
'No, honest, I do. As much as I don't _want_ to believe it, I do.'  
  
Draco tried to suppress a yawn, but it crept up on him and escaped his mouth.  
  
'Tired?'  
  
'Dunno. A bit. I haven't finished my Potions essay, though.' He looked down at his parchment.  
  
'Malfoy? I mean - Draco.'  
  
Draco looked up. She'd used his first name. No one, even his friends, used his first name, and when they did, it was rare. His whole life he felt as though his father was Malfoy and he Draco, but no one ever seemed to share that opinion. He was Malfoy as well, which was fine when he was eleven, but as he grew older, he no longer wanted to share an identity with his father.  
  
'I was wondering,' began Ginny, 'if you were still angry about Christmas.'  
  
'What happened on Christmas?'  
  
Ginny's mouth turned up into a small smile. 'Oh, er, the mistletoe. When I kissed you.'  
  
'Oh, right, what about it?'  
  
'Do you forgive me?'  
  
'No,' said Draco flatly.  
  
Ginny's smile fell and her face dropped. 'Oh. Well, I'm sorry again. I shouldn't have done it.'  
  
Draco looked back down at his parchment and picked up his quill. He laughed inside his head. As if he was going to be able to work with the baby Weasel looking right at him!  
  
'Draco?'  
  
He ignored her.  
  
'Draco?'  
  
He refused to allow himself to look up, but when he saw her hand reach towards him, he reeled back and jumped out of his chair.  
  
'Oh my god,' said Ginny, clearly appalled. 'I didn't mean - I'm sorry. I won't touch you - I'm sorry!'  
  
Draco took in a deep breath. He was afraid that if he let her touch him, he wouldn't want her to stop.  
  
'I mean, I know we're not friends, but I thought... I thought we were at least _friendly_. I didn't know I was so...' Her voice trailed off. 'Repulsive,' she finished.  
  
Repulsive? No, not repulsive.  
  
'You talk too much,' said Draco. 'You talk too much, you have old clothes that don't fit, and your wand looks as though it's going to break. You always wear your hair up in that messy ponytail or in shabby-looking plaits and your textbooks smell like must and age... but you're not repulsive.'  
  
Ginny got down from the desk and took a few steps towards Draco. 'Then why don't you want me to touch you?'  
  
 _Because I'm not suppose to want you to touch me_ , Draco thought, but he knew he would never say it.  
  
'You're arrogant,' said Ginny. 'And you act like a total jerk-off most of the time. You have two brutes that do whatever you say and you let them beat people up for you. Your hair is too blonde and your skin is too pale and your nose is kind of pointy. Your clothes look expensive - _too_ expensive - and you never look comfortable in them. But you don't want to follow Voldemort because he's half-Muggle, so you're not a hypocrite, and you don't want to join our side of the war because you don't believe in it, so you're true to yourself. And I thought after we had our detentions together that we might be friends... we certainly learned a lot about each other, yeah?'  
  
'Aye,' whispered Draco, leaning backwards, away from Ginny.  
  
'But even though you don't think we're friends, that's all right. And if you don't want me to touch you, that's fine. But if you want to touch _me_ , I wouldn't mind.'  
  
Draco forced himself not to flinch or anything; he expression stayed fixed and indifferent.  
  
' _If_ you want to touch me, that is.'  
  
Oh, god, this Weasley was completely mad - barmy, insane, out of her ever-magical mind.  
  
She stood there, looking at him, as if waiting for him to make a move. After several moments, when he didn't budge, Ginny stepped back and picked up Potter's Invisibility Cloak from where she had lain it on a desk and went towards the door. She couldn't get out of the room until he had lifted the Imperturbable Charm, but she might not know that, so he waited until she reached her hand to the doorknob before he said, 'Stop.'  
  
Ginny took an audible breath in and slowly turned around.  
  
'What if I said that if you wanted to touch me it was okay?'  
  
'Is it?'  
  
Draco wet his lips and nodded his head down once. Ginny sat the cloak down again and walked across the stone floor until she stood directly in front of him. She was short, very short, another thing he didn't like about her, but he couldn't think about that right now, because his eyes were focused on her full mouth, parted slightly, as if waiting for him to insert his tongue into it.  
  
 _You can NOT kiss a Weasley!_ he screamed at himself. _Your father will kill you for certain. You will be chucked out of Slytherin and the Dark Lord will deem you disposable. DO NOT KISS THE BABY WEASEL!_  
  
But Ginny stood up on her tiptoes and put her hands on either side of Draco's face. She brushed her thumbs across his sharp cheek bones and pulled his head towards her. Her lips touched his and soon they were kissing... long, quiet kisses. But they were kissing nevertheless.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
She was kissing Draco bloody Malfoy. She was supposed to hate the Malfoys. And yet... Here he was, kissing her to insanity. Ohh, his kisses confused her... but they were brilliant.  
  
They were kisses that consumed her... kisses that set her on fire... kisses that made it hard to breathe and forget the world... kisses she didn't understand and yet made perfect sense... kisses that filled her brain and jellied her legs... kisses that were secret, desperate, and desired... kisses that left her wanting more...  
  
She was kissing _Draco Malfoy_. And it was wonderful. She had had passion with Harry, but his kisses never felt like this.  
  
Suddenly, Malfoy pulled away.  
  
'Fuck,' he cursed.  
  
'What?'  
  
'I can't kiss you. You're a Weasley. You're a Mudblood lover.'  
  
'Yeah, yeah,' said Ginny in a bored voice, 'and you hate Mudbloods.'  
  
'Yes,' said Malfoy harshly, 'I do.'  
  
'Do you want to keep kissing me?'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Liar.'  
  
'Stop calling me that,' snapped Malfoy.  
  
'I'm not going to tell anyone,' said Ginny. 'I'm in as much danger as you are if anyone finds out about this.'  
  
'I rather doubt that.'  
  
'You don't think that Voldemort or your father would try to have me killed if they found out about this?'  
  
'I...' Malfoy stopped and looked as though he was considering this. 'Actually, I think that's exactly what they would do. They'd say you were a temptress and try to reason their way out of it.'  
  
'And my family wouldn't be accepting. I think Ron might actually cry if he found out.'  
  
'No, your brother would try to kill me.'  
  
'Yes, that is true.'  
  
'What about Harry?'  
  
Ginny shrugged. Harry would never speak to her again, of that she was sure. 'I don't know. He'd be upset.'  
  
Malfoy snorted. 'Upset? That's quite an understatement.'  
  
'Draco...' said Ginny softly. Something changed in his eyes when she said his name. 'Kiss me again.'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'This is ridiculous. We cannot do this. Malfoys do not kiss Weasleys.'  
  
'Well, I should hope not since most of us are boys. That would be gross.'  
  
'Ginny, shut up.'  
  
Ginny smiled.  
  
'If I let you kiss me again then I'm allowing this to go too far. It cannot go too far. I don't need another fuck-mate.'  
  
'I don't want to be a fuck-mate. I'm not a slag like Daphne Greengrass!'  
  
Malfoy shrugged. 'I'm just calling it like I see it.'  
  
'I don't expect anything from you - you're a Malfoy, after all. I _wouldn't_ expect anything from you. But I know I want to kiss you more than I've wanted to kiss anyone else before, so let's just do that for a while and figure the other stuff out later. I know you want to.'  
  
Malfoy didn't answer.  
  
'Fine,' said Ginny. She closed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around his neck, and looked right into his grey, lifeless eyes. 'Your eyes looked depressed.'  
  
'My _eyes_ look depressed?' Malfoy repeated.  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
'Well, your eyes are the colour of shit.'  
  
'And chocolate.'  
  
Malfoy snorted. 'Yeah, and chocolate.'  
  
Then, he kissed her.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
 **To Be Continued...**  
  
XXXXXXX  



	5. Playing Games

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX 

**Chapter Five: Playing Games**

XXXXXXX

            The next morning Ginny skipped breakfast to sleep in.  She woke up in the deserted classroom, on a mattress Malfoy – _No, Draco_ , thought Ginny, _he likes it when you call him Draco_ – conjured up.  They snogged for a while – okay, more than a while – before they both breathlessly broke away.  Ginny knew she was flushed; she could feel the heat in her cheeks.  But Draco seemed as cool as always.  He slid down the wall, and sat with his back against it.  Ginny curled up next to him, her head in his lap.  He didn’t touch her, but he let her lay there until she fell asleep.  She only woke once before morning, and that was when Draco told her to get up and sleep on the crude mattress he’d conjured up with his wand.  He went to his desk and worked on his essay while Ginny slept.

            When she woke up, Draco had fallen asleep himself.  Not wanting to wake him, Ginny took Harry’s Invisibility Cloak and put it on.  She left the classroom and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

            She had a hard time falling asleep again, but she was so very tired.  She did after about an hour and slept all the way until lunch.  She showered, dressed, and went down to the common room.

            Ron and Hermione sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace.  Harry was in front of them, on the floor, flipping through _Quidditch Weekly_.  Ginny sat down in a chair near them, noticing that Ron’s hand was holding Hermione’s, although they both were acting very nonchalant about it.

            ‘Where’ve you been?’ asked Ron.  ‘You skipped breakfast.’

            ‘I was tired.’

            ‘I didn’t see you after Hogsmeade.’

            ‘I went to bed early.’

            ‘That’s not what Harry said.’

            Ginny flashed Harry a dangerous look and he had the decency to look ashamed.  ‘I wasn’t able to get back in the tower until late,’ she said, still looking at Harry.

            ‘We sent Hermione looking for you, but you weren’t in your room.’

            ‘Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Ron!’ cried Ginny.  ‘Maybe I was in the loo or something.  What’s wrong with you?  You’re not my bloody keeper.’

            ‘I know that!  I was just worried.’

            ‘What, going to write Mum and Dad that your baby sister was out all night?  Grow up, Ron.  I’m going to get lunch.’

            Ginny got up and stalked to the portrait hole and climbed out.  Perhaps she overreacted just a bit, but there were plenty of times where Harry had stayed out all night and no one ever questioned him.  It didn’t matter.  There were more important things to think about.

            

            Of course she knew that Draco would never ask her to be his girlfriend, no matter how many times she played that scenario in her head.  That didn’t mean they had to stop kissing.  Or anything else that came after kissing – which didn’t happen last night, but was definitely in Ginny’s dreams.

            _Oh, my God_ , thought Ginny.  _I told him I fancied him!_   

            She knew what that meant.  She had placed herself vulnerable.  Draco never said whether or not he fancied her.

            _You know he does_.

            The way he kissed her suggested he fancied her.  Sighing, Ginny made it to the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table.  She piled her plate with food, feeling rather hungry since she skipped breakfast.  She was facing the Slytherin table and noticed that Draco was facing her as well.  One stolen glance at him told her he was focusing on his food, so she looked back at hers.  A moment later, she felt her body heat up; Draco must be staring at her.  She didn’t look up, though, and kept eating.

            Her thoughts weren’t on her food.  Instead, her mind was filled with the night before and all that had happened.  Absentmindedly, she fingered the back of her head with her left hand, while her right picked up her goblet of pumpkin juice and drank from it.  Draco had run his hands through her hair and cradled her head in his hands as he kissed her.  He was much more tender than she thought he would have been, as if he’d never done this before, even though she knew he had.

            

            ‘Are you all right?’

            Ginny’s head snapped up.  She hadn’t even noticed Harry come into the Great Hall and sit down across from her at the table.  

            ‘Er, I’m fine.’

            ‘Are you?’

            Ginny nodded.  ‘I just don’t like Ron always trying to get into my business.’ 

            ‘He’s just trying to do his duty as a big brother.’

            ‘I don’t care,’ said Ginny.  ‘He acts as though I can’t do anything—’

            ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Harry.  ‘Where _were_ you, though?’

            ‘Oh, Harry...’ sighed Ginny.

            ‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’

            ‘There’s nothing to tell.  I spent the night in one of the deserted classrooms because I couldn’t get back to the tower.  The Fat Lady was gone.  It’s not a very interesting story.’

            ‘Your brother just worries.’

            Ginny eyed Harry carefully.  ‘You mean _you_ worry.’

            ‘Yes.  We’re friends.  I worry about Ron and Hermione as well.’

            ‘Harry?’

            ‘Yes?’

            ‘If something _was_ going on...’  Ginny made sure to look him straight in the eye.  ‘...y’know, that you lot should be worried about... I’d tell you first.’

            Harry gave her a small smile.  ‘Thanks.  I appreciate it.’

XXXXXXX

            ‘It’s time,’ Hermione whispered.

            Ginny raised her eyebrows.  ‘Time for what?’

            ‘For, y’know – the _potion_!’

            ‘What?’ cried Ginny.  She hadn’t expected the potion to be finished this quickly.  In fact, part of her didn’t think the potion would be finished at all – not for humans, anyhow.  

            ‘Shh!’ snapped Hermione, looking around the library later that night.  ‘Listen, I’ve got a new batch – it’s stronger.  I think it’ll work on us.’

            ‘“Us” meaning...’

            ‘You, me, Ron, Harry...  Everyone.’

            ‘Does it work?’

            ‘I think so,’ Hermione answered.

            ‘You _think_ so?’

            ‘It needs to be tested.  I think we should do it tonight.’

            ‘Do what?  Test it tonight?’

            ‘Yes.  I think most of Gryffindor is still out of the tower so we won’t be missed if we leave.’

            ‘You and me?’

            ‘I’m going to go tell Harry and Ron, of course.  They’re upstairs with Seamus.’

            Ginny made a face.  ‘With Seamus?  Why?’  

            ‘Seamus and Lavender had a date yesterday at Hogsmeade and so he’s telling them and Neville what happened.’

            

            ‘Why does Ron want to know what happened with his ex-girlfriend and Seamus?’

            Hermione shrugged.

            ‘You don’t care?’

            Hermione snorted.  ‘As if I’m worried about _Lavender Brown_.’

            Ginny rolled her eyes.  Hermione was certainly worried about Lavender last year; what made this year any different? 

            ‘Oh, _now_ you’re not worried about Lavender Brown, but last year you wouldn’t even speak to Ron.’

            Hermione pinked ever so slightly.  ‘Well, that’s because I was angry.’

            ‘No, shite.  Why angry, though?  I would think “hurt” would be a more appropriate emotion...’

            Hermione chewed on her bottom lip instead of answering.

            ‘I’m going to keep asking until you tell me, y’know.’

            Hermione let out a sigh.  ‘Oh, all right.  I asked Ron to go with me to Slughorn’s party and he agreed.’

            ‘Well, Ron said it was never officially a date.’

            ‘It should have been.  We practically kissed before I asked him—’

            ‘You kissed—?’

            ‘Almost,’ said Hermione.  ‘Harry was with Dumbledore and Ron needed help with Transfiguration so we went to the library and we were sitting on the same side of the table.  Anyway, Madam Pince interrupted us by announcing the library was closing.  After that I think he wanted to kiss me, but we never found time alone.’

            ‘Oh,’ said Ginny.  ‘ _Ohh!_ ’  She seemed to have a bit of a revelation.  No wonder Ron had been so upset with her when she yelled at him for never having kissed someone before – he hadn’t done it, but not for lack of trying.  ‘And you’re not worried anymore?’

            ‘No.  Lavender broke up with Ron because of me,’ said Hermione happily.  ‘Of course, Ron later said had _he_ done the breaking up – the coward – he would have used me as the reason.  So, no, I have no reason to be concerned over why Ron cares about what Seamus and Lavender did on their date.  I daresay it should be interesting.  After all, when Ron and Lavender were together all she ever wanted to do was snog in the first place.  Can’t build a relationship on kissing.’

            ‘Right,’ said Ginny.  Hermione was right, as usual; a relationship could not be built on kissing alone.  What about Draco?  She kissed him.  Oh, she kissed him a lot.  They didn’t have a relationship, though – not yet anyway.  Still, Ginny wasn’t sure what to think because part of her suddenly realised that kissing might be the only thing she and Draco had going for them.  Draco didn’t seem the type of boy to fancy having a chat about feelings and relationships, especially with someone he was supposed to despise.

            ‘Are you all right?’ Hermione asked.

            Ginny nodded.  ‘I’m fine.  I’m happy for you and Ron.  I’ve always wanted a sister who wasn’t blonde and stuck on herself.’

            ‘Oh, you mean Phlegm.’

            ‘Sure, she married Bill, even though he’s scarred, but she’s so – _full of herself!_ ’

            ‘I know what you mean,’ said Hermione.  ‘As long as Bill’s happy, I suppose.’

            Ginny snorted.  ‘As long as Bill’s happy indeed.  She’s trying to talk him into moving to France, which I suppose he’ll do after the war is over.  Says he’s needed here, though.  Well, anyway.  Did Ron ask you out yet?  Officially?’

            ‘No,’ said Hermione.  ‘I’m not really _concerned_ about it.  I know he fancies me—’

            ‘Loves you,’ interrupted Ginny.

            ‘—and he and Harry had a talk last night about him and me...’

            ‘Still, it would be nice to be asked, wouldn’t it?’

            ‘I suppose.  Sometimes I – oh, there they are.’  Hermione waved Ron and Harry over as they descended the boys’ dormitory stairs.  

            They both walked over, both with amused looks upon their faces.

            ‘So, what happened with Seamus and Lavender, then?’ said Ginny.

            Harry began chuckling as Ron said, ‘She practically attacked him at Madam Puddifoot’s.  Right scary, that, having Lavender fling herself upon you.’  Ron shuddered as Hermione rolled her eyes playfully and Ginny sniggered.

            ‘Well, I have something for you lot,’ said Hermione quietly.  ‘I think we need to go to the Room of Requirement.’

            Ron and Harry both looked surprised.  ‘For what?’ asked Ron.

            ‘Just come on.’

            They followed Hermione out of the common room as they made their way towards the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.  Hermione walked back and forth three times, her eyes closed.  When the door appeared, she flung it open and rushed inside.  Hearing her sigh in relief, Ginny, Ron, and Harry entered the room.

            It looked a bit like the dungeons – with cauldrons and test tubes and potion ingredients.  The room wasn’t dark like the dungeons, though, and was lit with lines and lines of torches and bright candles.  

            ‘Did you finish the potion?’ asked Ron.

            ‘Yes, I left it in here for safe keeping.  I knew it would stay here until I came back for it, but you never know.’  Hermione smiled.  ‘But it’s finished.’

            ‘With Harry’s blood and everything?’ asked Ron.

            ‘Yes,’ said Hermione.

            Ron shuddered when Harry said, ‘She used a cutting spell on my arm.’  He pulled up his sleeve and showed a razor-thin line across his bicep.  ‘You healed it pretty well considering you’d never healed anything this deep before.’

            ‘Thanks, but I wish you weren’t going to have a scar.’

            ‘Believe me, if that potion blocks the Killing Curse, I won’t care.’

            Hermione smiled.  

            ‘Does it definitely work?’

            ‘I think so,’ answered Hermione.

            ‘You – you _think_ so?’ cried Ron.  ‘I’m not drinking Harry’s blood for an “I _think_ so”!’

            ‘Don’t be so melodramatic!’ snapped Hermione, pushing some of her bushy hair away from her face.  ‘We’re going to test it.’

            ‘Hermione...’ said Ginny slowly.  ‘You can’t be serious.  We can’t test the Killing Curse, can we?  That’s mad.’

            ‘I’m going to test it on myself.’

            ‘No!’ cried Ron.  ‘You can’t do that!  What if the potion doesn’t work?  You’ll die!’

            ‘I know the fundamentals of the Killing Curse, Ron.’

            ‘Well, I know, but—’

            ‘No,’ said Hermione, holding up her hand.  ‘If this potion doesn’t work, then nothing will.’

            ‘If that potion doesn’t work you’re not going to be of any use anymore,’ said Harry quietly, looking right into Hermione’s eyes.  ‘You’re the cleverest witch in the whole school.  How am I supposed to fight Voldemort without you?’

            ‘I have faith in you, Harry,’ said Hermione.  ‘You can defeat You-Know-Who without me if necessary.’

            ‘But I don’t want to.’

            ‘We found all the Horcruxes but one over the summer together – I helped you then.  This is my turn to really make a difference.  But we need to find out _now_ if I’m right.’

            ‘No,’ said Ron.  The tone of his voice sounded tragic.  ‘You can’t.’

            ‘I _have_ to,’ said Hermione.  ‘If we don’t know for sure then you won’t be able to fight Voldemort as confidently.’

            ‘Don’t you care what I—?’

            ‘Ron, don’t,’ said Hermione, refusing to look him in the eye.  Instead, she turned towards one of the tables in the room.  Taking a deep breath, she pulled her hair back into a thick ponytail and took one of the test tubes out of the rack, uncorked it, and tossed it back as though she was doing a shot of Firewhisky.

            Ginny looked at her brother.  His eyes looked glassy with unshed tears and his jaw was set so tightly, Ginny wondered if he was biting down on his tongue to keep from crying.  Watching him gave her an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Would anyone ever look at her like that?

            Suddenly, Ginny remembered something – ‘Hermione, you can’t use that curse.’

            ‘I know it’s illegal, Ginny, but if I didn’t get in trouble for killing mice over the holiday, I won’t get in trouble for this.’

            ‘No, I was going to say that you have to mean it.  Harry couldn’t curse Bellatrix two years ago because he didn’t mean it – that’s what she said isn’t it?’  Ginny turned towards Harry; he nodded.  

            ‘I’ll mean this,’ said Hermione.  ‘Believe me.’  Looking at Ron, Hermione took in another deep breath.  ‘What I said yesterday at Hogsmeade?  It’s still true.’  She took her wand out of her pocket, pointed it at herself and said, ‘ _Avada Kedavra!_ ’

            The room was filled with a flash of green light and Hermione was blasted backwards towards the far wall.  She hit it and collapsed in a heap in front of it.

            ‘No!’ shouted Ron, taking off towards Hermione’s limp body.  His long legs only had to take four steps before he was on his knees, lifting her head into his lap.  Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open.  She looked peaceful and very pretty.

            Ginny turned her back on the scene, her eyes blinking furiously.

            ‘Is she—?’ Harry’s voice said somewhere behind her.

            ‘I don’t know,’ answered Ron wretchedly.  ‘She’s not moving.  I can’t tell if she’s breathing.  I think she is...’

            Ginny felt a large lump in her throat and choked on it.  Harry was immediately by her side, his hands on her arms.

            ‘It’s okay,’ he said, moving one of his hands to pat her on the back.

            Ginny collapsed, her head in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks.  ‘What – she can’t—’

            ‘Shh,’ said Harry soothingly, although there was a hitch to his voice.  Ginny was afraid to turn around and look at him – afraid he’d look as tragic as Ron.  

            Her cries were silent.  It didn’t seem real.  When she turned around, Ron was still holding Hermione, his back against the wall, his eyes closed with large drops of tears dripping off the end of his long nose.

            After about thirty minutes, Ron gave a strangled-sounding cry that made Ginny’s head shoot up from where it was resting against Harry’s shoulder.  Hermione was stirring.

            ‘Ouch.’

            ‘You tried killing yourself and all you can say is “ouch”?’ cried Ron, wiping furiously at his tear-stained face.

            Hermione sat up.  ‘I think it just knocked me out.’  She blinked several times and smiled at Ron, who looked incensed.  ‘I had to do it.’

            ‘I’m glad you’re okay!’ said Ginny, standing up and sniffling.  ‘You had me worried.  I really thought you were dead.’

            Hermione smiled sadly.  ‘I’m sorry.  I didn’t think that would happen.  I thought the spell would bounce off me.’

            ‘Thank Merlin it didn’t!’ said Ginny, but Hermione didn’t appear to have heard her.  The other girl was looking with rather large eyes at Ron, as though waiting for him to blow up and start yelling.

            Harry tugged at Ginny’s sleeve.  She turned and looked at him; he nodded for her to follow him out of the room.  She did and they went out into the corridor.  

            Walking back towards Gryffindor Tower, Harry said, ‘I don’t think I’ve recovered from that.’

            ‘What time is it?’

            ‘Eight.’

            ‘Fancy a walk outside?  I cannot go back to the tower looking like my best friend’s just died.’

            Harry nodded and they took the staircases down to the entrance hall and out the door.  Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets and exhaled loudly.

            ‘I’m really ticked off at her,’ he said.

            ‘Why?’

            

            ‘I shouldn’t be – she found the most brilliant potion – but between Sirius, Dumbledore, and the prophecy I don’t know how much more I can take.  I’ve already guarded myself to think that someone else I – that I’m close to might die and if it’s Hermione—’

            ‘It won’t be,’ said Ginny firmly.  ‘If she didn’t die tonight she’s not going to die at all.’

            ‘Right,’ said Harry.  ‘But if she _was_ to die, or you or Ron – I don’t know how I’d take it.  I don’t think I can take anymore emotional upheavals.  I’m not strong enough.’

            ‘I’m not going to die and neither is Ron.  And Hermione?  She’s too stubborn to die.’

            Harry laughed.  It was good to hear him laugh again; he hadn’t done that in a long time.

            ‘Ginny...’ he began and stopped walking.  He turned to her and Ginny wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.

            ‘Harry, don’t,’ she said, heading him off.  ‘Look – I think I know what you’re going to say and let’s not have this talk again.  At least not until the war is over and Voldemort is dead, yeah?’

            Harry nodded.  ‘All right.  Okay, sure.  When Voldemort is dead.’

XXXXXXX

            Why was she ignoring him?  It made his blood boil.  Stupid baby Weasel.  It was driving him mad.  She sat at meals, facing towards the Slytherin table, eating slowly, always sitting for the entire meal, beginning to end, but she never looked at his table.  This was mad.  Pure evil.  In the library, he saw her, studying, as if no one else was around.  Out on the pitch, she flew, but never looked at the ground.  What was her deal?

            For two weeks they danced around one another, as if the other didn’t exist.  When he used to pass her by in the corridors all the time between classes, now he never saw her anymore.  It made him so agitated that he had hexed Goyle twice and thrown a conjured-up snake at Crabbe, who was, ironically, afraid of snakes.

            True to form, Draco refused to allow himself to analyse what had happened with Ginny.  He accepted it as lust and was going to think of it that way.  He certainly didn’t _fancy_ her.  But, then again, Draco wasn’t sure if he was capable of fancying anyone.  He went back and forth on the issue.  Part of him knew that he had liked Daphne because she was a girl, available to him and offering herself, but another part of him knew that he had liked her because she was Daphne – because he just _did_.  Although, he definitely fancied her more because she had offered herself to him.

            Still, Draco wanted to see Ginny again.  He wanted to snog her again, most certainly, but he also wanted to talk to her again.  She seemed to have him figured out very well and she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she thought of him.  His life wasn’t in the complete control he wanted it to be in.  He was still unsure about the Dark Lord and becoming a Death Eater.  The confusion and uncertainty ate at him.  He was disgusted that the person who he seemed able to talk to was a Mudblood lover, but she was all he had in that regard.  No one else in Slytherin would dare talk about any doubts they had over the war if they even had them; Draco wasn’t so sure any of them did.

            In the Great Hall at dinner on Thursday night, almost two full weeks after the... incident with Ginny, Draco pressed all of his chopped carrots with the back of his fork until they were a pile of orange mush.

            ‘What’s with you?’ asked Blaise, looking rather disgusted at the mangled mess of food on Draco’s plate.

            ‘Nothing.’

            ‘You need to get yourself laid, mate.’

            Draco slammed his fork down on the table.  ‘Zabini, I wish you’d shut the fuck up sometimes.  For all you know I _am_ getting laid.  People can be in bad moods for reasons other than not having sex.’

            ‘Why are you so goddamn moody?’

            ‘Aren’t I always moody?’ 

            Blaise snorted.  ‘Not like this.’

            

            Draco picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.  ‘I’m going to the library,’ he huffed.

            ‘Bitch,’ Blaise called out after him.

            Draco had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes and leaping over the table to pummel Blaise.  What was the big idea calling _him_ a bitch?  Instead, he simply walked out of the Great Hall, his head held high.  Sure, some people might say he looked like an arrogant git, but he knew his arrogance was truth.  He had money, he was good-looking, he was smart, and he was a _pureblood_ , which was most important above all things.  Why shouldn’t he be arrogant?  He was better than most of Hogwarts and he knew it.

            On the way to the library, Draco was aware that everyone was eating dinner and he was practically alone in this part of the castle.  _Thank God_.  He was so sick of being surrounded by fools.  He craved isolation.  There seemed to be nothing better than being alone, doing exactly what he wanted to do, without anyone bothering him – without anyone suggesting that sex would solve his personality-issues.  

            He sat down at a table and pulled out his Potions textbook and suddenly realised... he’d done all his homework.  Well, he certainly wasn’t going to go to the common room and listen to Blaise’s drabble or Pansy’s constant chatter right in his ear.  He closed his Potions book and went to one of the shelves and pulled down a book he had been eyeing for a while now.  Going back to his table, he sat down and began to read.

            He felt, rather than saw, Ginny enter the library.  She sat down near him.  His eyes were focused on the book in front of him, but he wasn’t reading it.  Instead, he was watching her out of the corner of his eye.  

            He’d barely been able to read three paragraphs before she came into the library and disturbed his peace.  If she was going to continue to ignore him, Draco was just going to have to do something about it.  Not thinking he could take any more of it, he stood up and walked towards her table.

XXXXXXX

            Ginny left the Great Hall in search of some peace and quiet so that she could study for her Transfiguration test.  Hermione had lent her old notes and Ginny immediately began copying them as soon as she sat down in the library.  

            The library was mostly empty; most students were still at dinner.  Ginny chose a table near Draco.  She had seen him leave the Great Hall, but hadn’t known he was going to be in the library.  It was brilliant, though, because she could continue to ignore him like she had for the past two weeks.  Playing hard to get wasn’t easy, but Ginny didn’t want to always be the one to initiate their meetings.  Draco had to make it known that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

            It was hard to even copy down notes with Draco so near.  Last week her thoughts hadn’t been so much focused on Draco as they were focused on Hermione and the incident with the potion.  For the first few days afterwards, Ginny felt as though she was in a daze.  She watched one of her good friends essentially die and her nerves hadn’t quite got over it.  Harry immediately seized the chance to drink the potion, but told Hermione that she was never, ever to point her own wand at herself again.  Ron, on the other hand, didn’t say much at all.  Of course, Ginny had no idea what happened after she and Harry left the Room of Requirement, but since then, Ron had been quiet.  It wasn’t as though he and Hermione were no longer on speaking terms, because they sat at meals together and studied at the same table in the common room, but they seemed to be in a quiet lull together.  Ginny wasn’t sure if they were on rocky ground with one another or if they had entered a comfort zone with one another, where they had an understanding and words weren’t needed.

            After a few days, though, Ginny slowly began to be aware of Draco again.  That’s when she decided to really play hard to get and make him come to her.  She wouldn’t give in.

            As she was copying down her notes in the library, someone bumped into her table, causing the open ink bottle to topple over.  Looking up, Ginny saw Draco pass by her table.

            Anger suddenly rose inside her and she felt her hands form fists as she tried to control herself and keep herself from yelling at Draco in the middle of the silent library.  As her anger subsided, she picked up her wand to try and clean up the mess Draco had made, but the spilt ink was forming words.

MEET ME AT 8

            Ginny’s eyes narrowed.  Meet him at eight.  She looked at the clock above Madam Pince’s desk: half-seven.  That meant she had forty-five minutes to finish copying Hermione’s notes, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to be on time.  Draco could wait for her.

XXXXXXX

            Ginny made her way to the deserted classroom at eight-fifteen.  She looked around to make sure no one was around to see her as she opened the door and slipped inside.  Draco was there, with his back to the door, staring out the window at the grounds below.  He had on his usual colour of black with a pair of jeans and trainers.  On the only clean desk in the room sat his dragon skin jacket and his cashmere scarf.  Ginny looked at him longingly.  

            It was ludicrous, really.  After all, Harry said Draco had tried to kill Dumbledore!  Although, Harry _was_ obsessed with Draco last year...  Still, Draco was dangerous.  He was waiting to become a Death Eater.  Everything he encompassed was everything she was supposed to hate.  And he hated her as well – or was supposed to hate her as well.  

            And yet, she still looked at him, wanting him to come over and kiss her again.

            He turned and his eyes raked over her.  When his colourless eyes met her brown ones, she smiled.

            ‘I didn’t think you were coming,’ he said, not returning the smile.

            ‘I lost track of time,’ she lied.  ‘It took me a while to clean up your mess.’

            ‘I didn’t have much of a choice.  Would you have liked me to come over to your table and tell you to meet me?  So that anyone could have overheard?’

            ‘The library was deserted.’

            ‘Not completely,’ said Draco, turning back to the window and looking outside.

            ‘Draco?’ said Ginny, walking closer to him and feeling cold air hit her face from where bits of wind had escaped into the room from the broken window.  She touched his shoulder.  She half-expected him to pull away, but he didn’t.  ‘Why did you—?’  

            ‘Do you think it’s funny ignoring me?’

            ‘Well, I – no.’

            ‘Then why did you do it?’

            ‘I don’t know,’ said Ginny lamely.  ‘I thought that if I made _you_ come to _me_ , then this whole thing would feel more real.’

            ‘More real?’  Draco turned towards her.  ‘More _real_?  You have a funny sense of what is real, little girl,’ he snapped.  ‘We’ve both got a death wish, I think.’

            ‘What—?’

            ‘The Dark Lord is going to kill us if he finds out about this.’

            

            Ginny nodded.  ‘I know.  Maybe we shouldn’t,’ she whispered, not wanting to say the words.  ‘If you see him, he’ll immediately know – Harry says he’s the most powerful Legilimens—’

            Draco waved a dismissive hand and Ginny immediately shut up.  ‘My father taught me Occlumency.  I’m very good at it, if you want to know the truth.  Even Snape wasn’t able to read my mind and I hear he’s as powerful at Legilimency as the Dark Lord is.’

            ‘You know Occlumency?’ asked Ginny in a very surprised voice.

            ‘Yes.  It’s good business.’

            ‘I – well, all right, I see.  No one can see if you’re bluffing or not if they can’t read your thoughts, yeah?’

            Draco nodded.  ‘You, though, don’t know Occlumency, do you?’  When Ginny shook her head, Draco continued, ‘So you’ll have to make sure you don’t get caught by the Dark Lord, then.’

            Ginny gulped audibly.  ‘Maybe I should learn.’

            ‘I don’t know who would teach you.’

            ‘You wouldn’t?’

            ‘Do you want me to break into your mind and see all your thoughts?’

            Ginny’s mind immediately latched onto memories of her and Harry.  If Draco saw those things he’d never want to kiss her again.  He hated Harry more than he hated anyone else.  Those images would ruin whatever they had going and Ginny didn’t want that.  On the other hand, Ginny wouldn’t be able to get Harry to teach her, either.  Harry would be able to see her and Draco together and that would only cause him to go mad and probably try to kill Draco again.  No, Draco was right, who would teach her such a thing?

            ‘I don’t know,’ said Ginny.  ‘Probably not.  I have secrets, too.’

            Draco studied her face.  He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him so that she was flush against him.  He bent his head down and kissed her.  Her arms instinctively went around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her more deeply.

            ‘Wait,’ said Ginny, pushing him away.  ‘We need to talk about this—’

            ‘I don’t want to talk,’ said Draco, trying to pull her close again.

            ‘No, wait, for serious – stop.’

            Draco sighed and let her go with a slight push.  ‘What?’

            ‘What are we doing?’

            ‘If you have to ask, we must not be doing it right.’

            ‘You’ve said it yourself that this is dangerous.  If I’m risking my life, I need to know that what I’m risking it over is worth it.’

            Draco snorted.  ‘You don’t think I’m worth it?’

            ‘Draco, that’s not what I—’

            ‘What do you want?  Flowers and promises?’

            ‘No, I—’

            ‘Because I can’t give you those things.  I don’t _want_ to give you those things.’  Draco leaned back against the windowsill.  

            Ginny swallowed.  ‘All right.  I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.  But _you_ asked _me_ here tonight, not the other way around, y’know.’

            ‘I wanted a good snog and you’re rumoured to be very good at that.’

            

            Ginny frowned.  ‘Are you trying to hurt my feelings?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘Because from what I’ve seen of your kissing abilities, the only thing you’re good at is being an arse.’

            Draco’s face remained expressionless.  ‘You can go,’ he said dismissively.

            Ginny wanted to stomp her foot.  ‘I don’t want to go.  Draco – what are we fighting about?’

            ‘I didn’t realise this was a fight.’

            Ginny sat down on the clean desk and rubbed at her eyes, feeling the tears well up and not sure why.

            ‘I’m not playing these games with you,’ said Draco.

            ‘What games?’

            ‘This ignoring game.  You want a snog, you had a snog, but don’t pretend as though you’ve been inaccessible by accident the last two weeks.  Now _I_ want something and you pull away, saying we need to talk about it?’

            ‘Don’t you want to know why I ignored you?’

            ‘Not really.’

            ‘Because I fancy you.  For Merlin’s sake, Draco, I _fancy_ you.  I mean – what’s wrong with me?  I shouldn’t fancy you, you’re all wrong for me.  But I do and if I continually came after you to sneak off then I wouldn’t know how you feel.  I’ve spent enough of my time lusting after someone who didn’t realise I was there.  I’m not wasting my time doing it again.’

            Draco didn’t say anything.  He blinked several times and seemed to study her face.  Ginny felt pathetic.  She wanted the boy in front of her to fancy her so badly.

            ‘I didn’t think I’d be your Slytherin of choice,’ he said almost bitterly.

            ‘Why?’

            ‘I thought Zabini would be more your taste.’

            ‘ _Blaise_?’ said Ginny, feeling a bit shocked.  ‘Why would I fancy Blaise?

            ‘Well, you dated that Thomas boy, didn’t you?’

            Ginny narrowed her eyes.  ‘You think I would choose Blaise because he’s _black_?  You’re mad.  Yeah, I dated Dean.  So what?  I dated Michael Corner _and_ Harry Potter as well.  I don’t date people because of what they look like, Draco.  I date them because I like them.’

            ‘Oh, and you didn’t date Potter because he’s the “Chosen One”?’

            ‘That’s a right load of rubbish and you know it,’ seethed Ginny.

            ‘ _Is_ it?  You certainly were very willing to jump onto his lap after he ignored you for five years.’

            ‘He-did-not-ignore-me!’ Ginny said through clenched teeth.  She stood up from the desk.  ‘Look, Draco, this was obviously a bad idea’ – she rubbed at her eyes – ‘so I’m not going to waste your time anymore.’

            ‘Are you crying?’

            ‘I’m trying not to.  I’m not the kind of girl who cries.’

            ‘Well, I’ve seen you do it twice.’

            ‘Maybe you just reduce me to tears.’  Ginny made her way to the door.

            ‘Don’t go,’ said Draco in what sounded like a very resigned voice.  ‘I... shit.’

            ‘What?’  Ginny turned around, her hand still on the door handle.  

            ‘I’m not a nice person,’ said Draco plainly.

            ‘I know that.’

            He took a step closer to her.  ‘Usually I’m an arsehole on purpose, because I’m bored and have nothing better to do.’

            Ginny blinked and tilted her head to the side slightly, watching him closely.

            ‘I’m always going to _be_ an arsehole.  Usually, though, you seem to counter everything I say anyway.  You’re, er, feisty.’

            ‘Feisty?  Feisty as in bitchy?’

            Draco shrugged one shoulder up.  ‘I think you’re a blood traitor and I hate Mudbloods and half-breeds.  You’re not going to change that about me.’

            ‘I know that.’

            ‘Some girls think they can change you,’ said Draco bitterly.

            ‘Is that why you don’t date Pansy anymore?’

            ‘Pansy is a simpering fool.  She wanted me to be a doting boyfriend.  I do _not_ dote.’

            Ginny couldn’t help but laugh.  

            ‘I don’t like people to worry over me and fix my hair.  My point: I’m nothing like the other boys you’ve got off with.  I don’t do compliments; I don’t do dates; and I certainly do not do public displays of affection of any sort.’

            ‘You couldn’t do that with me anyway.’

            ‘I’m only letting you know.  I don’t apologise and if you ask me if you look fat in that outfit, I’m going to tell you the truth.’

            ‘Let me tell you something, then, if I may.  I don’t need a lot of attention.  My self-confidence is usually very high so I don’t need loads of compliments.  When I’m sad I liked to be hugged and when I have an essay I need to do I don’t like to be interrupted for any reason.  The only thing I require is loyalty and the truth.’

            

            ‘What the fuck does that mean?’

            ‘Tell me the truth when I ask – about _everything_ , including Death Eater business, even if you think I won’t like it.  And don’t cheat on me.’

            ‘Don’t cheat on you?’

            ‘Exactly.  Don’t cheat and don’t tell the Dark Lord – or anyone else – about me.  Those are the only two things I need.’

            Draco nodded.  ‘Right, then.  So we have an understanding?’

            ‘Are you going to give me those two things?’

            ‘I’m not a giving person.’

            ‘ _Draco!_ ’

            Draco rolled his eyes.  ‘Aye.’

            ‘So, do you think I look fat in this outfit?’

            Draco sniggered, his eyes going up and down her body.  ‘No,’ he said, stepping over to her so that he was barely an inch away from her.  ‘Except...’

            ‘Except what?’

            ‘You’re a bit fat here,’ he said, looking her right in the eye, his right hand cupping her left breast.

            Her breath hitched.  She felt light-headed.  This was so wrong.  First of all, Draco Malfoy was touching her like this, a Death Eater-in-training, the guy who tried to kill Dumbledore last year.  Second of all, if anyone ever found out she could easily be killed for this.  He said it himself, he was a complete git.  But it felt good.  It never felt this good when Harry touched her like this.

            ‘Do we have an understanding?’ Draco repeated, softly kneading her.

            Ginny nodded.  ‘Uh huh.’  She stepped backwards until she was against the wall; Draco followed.

            ‘You promise not to expect me to act like a “boyfriend” and not to change me’ – he reached his left hand down to her hip and pulled her to him; when she was flush against him, he moved his hand to her bum and held her tightly to him – ‘and I promise that it’s only you.’

            Ginny nodded again.  She licked her lips and waited for Draco to kiss her.

XXXXXXX

            It was almost ten o’clock when Ginny raced down the corridors, hoping not to be caught by Filch or Mrs Norris.  She could see the portrait of the Fat Lady when a voice behind her boomed.

            ‘Stop right there!’

            _Fuck!_ Ginny thought to herself.  She took in a deep breath and turned around.  Oh.  It was only Ron and Hermione.

            ‘It’s after hours,’ said Ron, crossing his arms over his chest.

            ‘Yeah?  Astute observation, there.’

            ‘I should give you detention.’

            ‘You’re out after hours, too, you big moron,’ spat Ginny.

            ‘I’m a prefect.  We were doing rounds.’

            ‘Oh, were you?’  Ginny smiled sweetly.  ‘Except it’s Thursday and you two never do rounds on Thursdays.  Off having a snog, then?’

            Ron’s ears turned bright red.  ‘No.’

            ‘ _Yes_.’

            ‘Where were you?’

            ‘Doing my homework.’

            ‘The library closes at nine.’

            ‘Oh, Ron, she’s fine,’ said Hermione.  ‘If she was doing anything we needed to be worried about I’m sure she’d tell us.’

            Hermione gave Ginny a pointed look; Ginny blushed and looked away.

            ‘I’ll be watching you,’ said Ron, and pushed past her to get to the portrait hole.

            Ginny sighed and followed suit, thinking that if Ron was going to keep a close eye on her, perhaps she shouldn’t go off with Draco anymore.  Then, she laughed to herself.  No, if Ron was going to keep a close eye on her, she would just have to take a leaf out of the twins’ book and be much more careful and much sneakier.  

            She smiled as she walked up the girls’ dormitory stairs and into her room.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

 


	6. In or Out

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Six: In or Out**

XXXXXXX

Ginny had a free period right after breakfast, which was good because she felt the need for a nap. It had been a week since she and Draco reached their ‘understanding’ and finding time to sneak away together proved difficult. They were only able to meet twice that week – the second time being last night and Ginny didn’t get back to Gryffindor Tower until after midnight. Her brother was there, working on an essay with Harry and Hermione, as were a few fifth-years who were scattered about. He seemed to want to know where she had been, but Hermione put a hand on his arm and he kept his mouth shut.

She sat down at the table in the Great Hall by herself; no one else from her year was there. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, Harry came in and sat across from her.

‘G’morning,’ he said. ‘Late night again, then.’

Ginny nodded and took a sip of her coffee. ‘Yes.’

‘What were you doing?’

‘Er – working on an essay.’

‘For who?’

‘Does it matter?’

Harry shrugged and reached for the plate of bacon. He looked as though he was dying to know what she was up to, though. 

‘Say, Harry? If I wanted to learn Occlumency, who could I learn it from?’

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t know. I’m not very good at it. You could ask Lupin or Tonks. They both know it.’

‘But they’re not at school to teach it to me.’

‘Tonks is still stationed in Hogsmeade,’ said Harry. ‘She might help you if she has time. Or...’

‘Or what?’

‘Well, I’m sure Lupin would do it. He’s, er, in Hogsmeade himself.’

‘Oh? Staying with Tonks?’

‘Living with Tonks,’ said Harry. ‘He owled me over the summer. We’ve been keeping up a bit and he’s been there since Christmas. I told him he could stay at Grimmauld Place, but he didn’t want to be there. Too many memories, I think.’

‘Right. I thought he was working with werewolves?’

‘No... He had a bit of an accident.’

‘What? When?’ Ginny liked Lupin very much; the thought of him having an accident worried her.

‘With the werewolves. That’s why he’s with Tonks now. Sort of. I mean, he was hurt very badly and St Mungo’s had to let him go before he was fully healed because they ran out of room and he couldn’t stay by himself – his leg was mucked up. He’s fine now, don’t look so worried. So, yeah, he’s living with Tonks. She insisted that he stay.’

‘That must be nice,’ said Ginny with a sigh. ‘To be in love in the midst of war.’ As soon as the words left her mouth, Ginny felt herself blush. She hadn’t meant to say it – not because she thought she was in love with Draco or anything as drastic as that (yet), but because she had the slight feeling that Harry might fancy himself in love with _her_.

Harry seemed to ignore her comment because he asked, ‘What d’you want to learn Occlumency for?’

‘Just so I won’t have to feel vulnerable. What if there’s a battle and I know where you are and Voldemort tries to find you? I can block him out of my head and give you more time—’

‘No,’ said Harry.

‘ _No_?’ said Ginny.

‘No what?’ asked Ron as he and Hermione came into the Great Hall, holding hands, and sat down at the table for breakfast. 

‘No, Ginny’s not going to be there at the final battle – whenever that is.’

‘Why not?’ cried Ginny. ‘It’s not as though you can keep me from fighting! I was there at the Department of Mysteries, wasn’t I?’

‘I didn’t want you to go, though.’

‘You can’t always protect me, Harry.’

‘I can try.’

‘What brought this on?’ asked Hermione, biting into an apple. Ginny and Harry ignored her.

‘I’m a strong witch – I’m near the top of my class. I got more O’s on my OWLs than you did. You should be happy to have someone like me on your side, willing to fight.’

‘Well, I’m not. No more people need to die. Sirius and Dumbledore are both already dead. I don’t want to lose anyone else I’m close to, Ginny. For fuck’s sake, do you always have to be so rebellious? Just listen for once and stay here when I have to go fight Voldemort.’

‘I’m more like Fred and George than you realise, Harry. I’m not going to do what I’m told. I’m going to do what is right. _Besides_ , if you’re so afraid of losing other people you’re close to, why aren’t you telling Hermione to stay here? You know she’s going to go help you fight.’

‘I can’t stop Hermione from going.’

‘You can’t stop me either!’ cried Ginny. ‘What’s the difference between me and Hermione, anyway? Why aren’t you telling her she can’t go?’

‘Because I’m not in love with _Hermione_ ,’ snapped Harry.

Ron choked on his scrambled eggs and Hermione almost dropped her cup of coffee. Harry turned bright red and put his head in his hands. Ginny felt angry. How dare he say this to her! He broke up with her, tried to continue being _friends_ with her, had a fling over the Christmas holiday with one of Hermione’s Muggle neighbours, and _now_ he’s saying he’s in love with her? The nerve of him. The absolute, unbelievable nerve.

Ginny slammed her cup down on the table, coffee flinging out and spilling down the sides. She got up and stalked towards the double doors. Her face heated up in anger and once she was in the entrance hall, she stopped and took in a few deep breaths. She needed to calm down.

From behind her, the doors to the Great Hall opened and closed. Ginny turned around and saw Draco coming towards her, his blonde hair smoothed back, his pointed chin raised, and his Slytherin tie loose around his collared shirt with the top-half unbuttoned. It was surprising because Draco usually looked put-together.

‘I saw you fighting with Potter,’ he said in a lazy tone. ‘You looked rather hacked off.’

‘Well, I am. He’s infuriating.’

‘That’s what I’ve been saying for the last seven years.’

Ginny couldn’t help but smile. ‘I know. We think he’s infuriating on two completely different levels. I—’

Before Ginny could finish, the doors to the Great Hall opened again and Ron and Hermione came through. The moment Ron’s eyes found Draco he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the blonde Slytherin. 

‘What are you doing to my sister?’ he demanded.

It took most of Ginny’s strength not to punch her brother. She knew she couldn’t stand up for Draco – after all, how would that look? – but Ron jumped to conclusions; Draco wasn’t doing anything wrong.

‘Nothing,’ seethed Draco, pulling out his own wand and pointing it at Ron.

‘Ron, please,’ implored Ginny. ‘Don’t do anything to get yourself in trouble.’

‘Listen to your sister, Weasley,’ said Draco. ‘Just take the Mudblood and run along before I have to hex you.’

‘ _Don’t_ call my girlfriend a Mudblood,’ snapped Ron.

Ginny was surprised. She looked at Hermione who looked equally speechless. Ron had never called Hermione _his_ girlfriend before. Hermione’s stunned expression quickly turned into one of mirth and she smiled.

Apparently Draco was shocked as well. His mouth curled up into a smile as he said, ‘Girlfriend? _Girlfriend_? Ho, ho! The Weasel’s got himself a girlfriend! I bet she’s really good at—’

‘ _Stupefy!_ ’ Ron shouted.

‘RON!’ Ginny and Hermione both said at the same time as Draco went flying backwards, hitting the stone floor with a rather loud thud. He lay there, unconscious, his blonde hair ruffled in the fall.

‘Oh, Ron,’ breathed Ginny, ‘now you’ve done it.’

McGonagall came out of the Great Hall, her purple robes billowing out behind her. She looked at the unconscious Draco and shook her head.

‘I knew the minute I saw you follow Mr Malfoy out the door, Mr Weasley.’ McGonagall looked at Ginny. ‘And let me guess, you had nothing to do with it again.’

‘No, I—’

‘I don’t want to hear excuses. Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr Weasley. Best control your temper from now on, please?’

Ron nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Miss Granger, kindly wake Mr Malfoy and take Mr and Miss Weasley back to Gryffindor Tower. Classes will start soon enough and the entrance hall needs to be cleared. Mr Weasley, I suppose detention wouldn’t do any good, would it? Still, I’ll see you in my office at eight o’clock.’

Hermione took her wand and pointed it at Draco. ‘ _Ennervate_ ,’ she said and put her wand back in her pocket.

Ginny watched Draco open his eyes and sit up, the most disgruntled look upon his face. She wanted to say something to him, but Ron pulled on her sleeve. She mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ and followed her brother and Hermione back to the common room.

XXXXXXX

The next two weeks were complete madness. The first week it was hard for Ginny to get away from the prying eye of her brother, especially since he thought that Draco was trying to pull one over on her when he spotted them in the entrance hall, but the second week she was able to meet up with him four times, which was brilliant. The third time they met up that second week, Draco was visibly angry about the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw in which his team lost miserably. 

He was more worried about what his father would say than the embarrassment of defeat. Every other time he and Ginny met in the classroom, they snogged, usually quite heavily. As bold as Draco was, Ginny still seemed to take the lead most of the time. The last time they were there, she undid his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and removed it from his shoulders. He had a white t-shirt on underneath, which she untucked from the waistband of his Hogwarts trousers. Her hands felt good against his skin as she ran them under his shirt and up his chest. He followed her lead, undoing the buttons of her shirt and pulling it from her skirt. He felt her breasts through the cotton of her bra, which wasn’t too new because he’d been feeling them since the second time they kissed in that classroom. 

This time, though, with the game hanging over his head, Draco didn’t want to be touched.

‘Stop,’ he said, ‘I can’t concentrate.’

‘All right.’ Ginny withdrew her mouth from him. ‘So tell me what’s wrong. The game was good – you didn’t lose by much.’

She was lying, of course. They lost by two hundred points. ‘My father is going to be furious.’

‘Oh bugger your father.’

Draco laughed bitterly. ‘I can’t muck up anymore. Last year – I don’t have any chances left.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m sure you heard about it. How I couldn’t... and Snape had to finish the job for me? My father said it was because I was sixteen, that I didn’t know what I was doing – that’s what he told the Dark Lord, but I haven’t been home since Dumbledore died. Well, I was home for the summer, but I was there by myself. I’m being punished. I shouldn’t even be here at school now. I should be at home because they weren’t going to make me come back. Tracey and Theo have already passed the test; they have the Mark. Same with Crabbe and Goyle: they’re Death Eaters now. But not me, I haven’t passed. Once term is over they’ll have to give me some sort of initiation, to prove myself.’ He put his head in his hands.

‘I thought you stayed at home alone because you weren’t Head Boy.’

‘I wasn’t going to tell you the real reason – my father made me stay in Wiltshire because I couldn’t kill Dumbledore. I’m at Hogwarts now because I couldn’t kill him. The Dark Lord wasn’t pleased with Snape, but he accepted that the job was done. My father doesn’t see things like that. He hasn’t been out of Azkaban that long – he escaped the day of Dumbledore’s funeral. He’s not taking his freedom for granted and he’s doing everything in his power to ensure that the Dark Lord kills Potter. And everything in his power includes me staying as far away from him as possible. He thinks I’m weak, that I’ll only hinder the Dark Lord instead of helping him.’

‘When Snape took you away from school last term – where did you go? Harry told me you went off with him and the other Death Eaters.’

‘Home. He told me to pack in case the Dark Lord wanted me dead and I needed to leave, but he explained things to him and I was allowed to live, but my father was given rein over my punishment and well... Snape told him that the other Death Eaters were interfering – continually asking Dumbledore questions instead of allowing me to do my job. Snape had to do it because the Order was coming and everyone needed to leave Hogwarts or else be killed.’

‘And the Dark Lord believed him?’

‘Obviously.’

‘Can’t you just _not_ be a Death Eater?’

Draco lifted his head. ‘ _What!_ You’re mad. Of course I have to be a Death Eater. If I refuse, I die.’

‘You could change sides. The Order would protect you.’

‘Protect me? As if your family would want to protect me. We _despise_ each other.’

‘I don’t despise you.’

‘We’re different,’ said Draco with a disgruntled sigh. The baby Weasel just didn’t understand. You did not say ‘no’ to the Dark Lord and live.

‘What happens if you fail the initiation? Do you not get the Mark? Will they kill you?’

‘Er...’

‘What?’ Ginny looked suspicious.

‘I already have the Mark.’

Ginny’s eyes grew large and her mouth hung open. ‘You _what_?’

Draco pulled back his sleeve and showed Ginny the tattoo on his forearm. It was black, disgusting, and hurt almost everyday now that the Dark Lord was back in almost-full power. Ginny gasped and covered her mouth and looked away. Well, she had wanted the truth from him and she got it. Draco covered his arm again.

‘You wanted the truth,’ he snarled. ‘So stop looking so disgusted.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ginny gasped. ‘I wasn’t expecting – you’re a Death Eater!’

‘No, I’m not. Not officially. It was a mistake branding my arm before I was ready – the Dark Lord admitted that already.’

‘Is it going to be there forever?’

‘Isn’t that the nature of tattoos?’ said Draco.

‘Well, yes.’

‘It’ll be there forever, so if you’re going always act so ill when you see it, you best leave now.’

‘No,’ said Ginny firmly. ‘I can look past it.’

It was a testament to her character that she could do so. Look past the Dark Mark? After she had been possessed by the wizard who put it on Draco’s arm? 

‘If they make you do another initiation, what are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not running away.’

‘You could be a spy. You already said you were a master at Occlumency – your father taught you.’

‘And my aunt Bellatrix,’ said Draco.

Ginny blinked and looked as though she was deep in thought. ‘Snape gave Harry Occlumency lessons to keep Voldemort out of Harry’s head. If Snape is as good as Harry said he was, then it’s important to know it because you could play both sides without Voldemort ever knowing. We all thought Snape was on our side, especially Dumbledore. And Dumbledore would never have known Snape was really evil if he couldn’t read his mind.’

Draco was taken aback. ‘Snape worked for Dumbledore?’

‘Didn’t you know he was a spy for the Death Eaters?’

‘Well I heard the rumours, but I never knew if they were true. You really ought to learn Occlumency,’ said Draco. ‘You could be saving both our lives if you’re ever taken by the Dark Lord.’

‘Yes,’ said Ginny, ‘I’ve sent an owl to Professor Lupin. He’s just in Hogsmeade so he can come over here when I have free time to teach me.’

‘You’re going to get Occlumency lessons from a _werewolf_?’

‘I happen to like him! He was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher – loads better than that old Umbridge toad you fancied.’

‘I did not _fancy_ her!’ said Draco disgustedly. ‘She had the right idea though about poor instructors. Hagrid and Trelawney are both old frauds and should have remained sacked.’

‘Oh, bite your tongue!’

Draco merely sneered. 

‘Lupin’s really good at it! Probably better than your father.’

‘My father only taught me for a little while. When he was sent to Azkaban, Bellatrix taught me. She’s a _really_ powerful witch.’

‘I know who she is,’ said Ginny darkly. ‘She was at the Department of Mysteries.’

Draco didn’t comment. He already knew all about the incident there. That’s where his father was sent to prison.

‘Draco... what _really_ happened with Dumbledore?’

He had been expecting this question. Ginny and her ‘always tell me the truth’ promise. 

‘I already said I couldn’t do it.’

‘I know, but what did you try to do? I heard you tried to curse and poison him without it working.’

‘The way everything was being monitored in and out of Hogwarts it was hard to get anything past the school. My father stashed a necklace away at this store in Knockturn Alley, an old family heirloom that is cursed. It will kill you instantly if there’s direct skin-to-skin contact, but when I tried to sneak it into the school, that foolish little Chaser touched it and cursed herself.’

‘ _You_ cursed Katie Bell?’

‘Was that her name?’

‘She barely passed her NEWTs because she was out of school for so long.’

Draco shrugged. ‘That’s too bad.’

‘What else happened?’

‘Oh, I poisoned something of Slughorn’s in hopes he would give it to Dumbledore and be blamed for his death.’

Ginny narrowed her eyes. ‘I haven’t heard this.’

‘You mean Potter never told you the story?’ Draco watched Ginny’s cheeks pink. ‘I suppose not, then. Yes, Slughorn was supposed to give it to Dumbledore, but your brother got it instead.’

Ginny’s jaw dropped. ‘Ron drank whatever it was because he ate a piece of chocolate that some bint of a fifth-year soaked in love potion. He was going mad and—’

‘Ended up in the hospital wing, I know.’

‘You’re lucky Harry knew what to give him or you would have killed my brother.’

‘Lucky for him I didn’t, isn’t it?’

‘What happened after you tried to poison Dumbledore?’

‘Nothing. I had to Imperius a couple of my professors when it came time to issue marks because I was so far behind. I was stressed out. I knew if I didn’t kill Dumbledore the Dark Lord would kill me instead.’

‘But you didn’t kill him.’

‘No, Snape did. He killed Dumbledore. It was pathetic. The old fraud begged for his life and Snape just held up his wand without hesitance. Snape took me away from Hogwarts because he thought my life might be in danger here.’

‘In danger? Why?’

‘You can’t tell me that Potter wouldn’t pass up the chance to kill me after what happened with Dumbledore.’

‘Harry wouldn’t...’ Ginny trailed off. ‘Well, he might.’

‘So I went home to find my father there, freshly escaped from Azkaban and fully aware that I had not done my duty for the Dark Lord. He was not pleased. I’ve been shut out of the Death Eater world since then. I’ve no idea what’s going on, really. Theo alludes to things sometimes, but only because he knows it riles me up.’

Ginny reached her hand out and touched his cheek. Without thinking, Draco leaned into her hand. Her skin was hot against his. 

‘Draco... I don’t want you to be a Death Eater.’

‘You don’t really have a choice in the matter, do you?’

Ginny withdrew her hand. ‘Just think about being a spy or – or running away.’

‘I am _not_ going to run away.’

‘Please, think about it. Then you’d be safe. I saw that you had a Collybus Stone when we bumped into each other in Hogsmeade before Christmas. Gringotts only gives those to people who have millions of Galleons in their vaults. And I’m assuming that it’s _your_ stone?’

Draco nodded. ‘Yes. I have my own Gringotts vault.’

‘So, empty it out and you can go anywhere you like.’

‘Oh, and where is “anywhere”?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ replied Ginny with a dreamy look in her eye. ‘Italy? Latvia? Sweden? Or really, really far away like Australia or the States or Brazil.’

‘Brazil?’

Ginny shrugged. ‘There’s a large wizard community there.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I’ve been reading about wizard villages for a while now,’ admitted Ginny, looking a bit guilty. ‘I don’t think I want to stay in England when it’s all over.’

‘Why not?’ asked Draco, completely surprised. He expected Ginny to want to stay close to her ridiculously large family.

‘I don’t know. I need a holiday from fighting. And I don’t really know what I want to do after Hogwarts. Maybe be a Healer? An Auror? At this rate, though, I don’t even see how I’m going to be able to take my NEWTs. Hogwarts barely opened this year as it is.’

‘I know.’

‘Plus, if my family ever found out what I’ve been doing with you, they’d run me out of the country for sure.’

‘After they hexed me into a thousand pieces,’ said Draco.

Ginny smiled. ‘Yes. Funny, that.’

‘Aye, if you fancy seeing me in a thousand pieces.’

‘I need to get back to the common room,’ said Ginny. ‘Ron’s been going ballistic on me since he saw you talking to me in the entrance hall. When do you want to meet again?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t properly tell you since your brother seems to be walking at your heels almost every day now.’

‘I know,’ said Ginny with a frown. ‘He’s a git.’

Suddenly, Draco remembered something he had packed in his bag earlier that morning. He reached for it where it sat against one of the desks and pulled it to him. He took out a bottle of ink and a quill. 

‘Here,’ he said. ‘Don’t lose it; it was very expensive.’

‘You’re giving me a quill?’

‘Don’t be stupid, it’s not just a quill. Look, the quill is enchanted. I’ll send you an owl with some parchment. Just make sure to use _that_ quill and _that_ ink bottle on it, all right?’

Ginny nodded. ‘All right. But what do I write?’

Draco sniggered. ‘You’ll figure it out. You can owl me back.’

‘My brother will notice I’m getting owls.’

‘Tell him that werewolf is writing you about those Occlumency lessons. Tell him to fuck off and mind his own business. I don’t care.’

Ginny nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you around...’ She smiled, pecked him on the cheek, and left the classroom.

Draco watched her go and groaned. What was he getting himself into? He didn’t like the idea of fancying anyone. Those kinds of emotions only made you weak. Fancying _Ginny Weasley_ only made things worse. He liked it when she came to him, though. He liked knowing that she thought about him during classes and when she tried to go to sleep at night. He liked that she told him she wanted his loyalty, that she was insecure enough to think that he might have a wandering eye for some other girl.

Suddenly it occurred to Draco that he never asked Ginny for _her_ loyalty. He didn’t think there was any boy, though, that Ginny would cheat on him with. Draco sniggered. The word ‘cheat’ made it sound as though they were boyfriend and girlfriend. They definitely never agreed on _that_. Still, he couldn’t imagine Ginny snogging any other boy while she was letting Draco snog and touch her.

_Except Potter_.

The thought had crossed his mind before. Ginny had been in love with Potty since she was a little girl. It was hard to miss the way she drooled over him and stared at him all the bloody time. Not so much anymore, but what if Harry wanted her back? Would she go?

Draco put his head in his hands again as he mentally kicked himself for thinking that the only person he could lose Ginny to would be the one person he hated the most.

XXXXXXX

‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

Harry laughed awkwardly.

Ginny turned and looked at him. They were seated by their favourite chairs in the common room, by the fire the following Sunday. Next to them, on the sofa, were Ron and Hermione. The two of them were holding hands while Hermione’s free one turned the pages of an Arithmancy book on her lap. Ron kept trying to kiss her, but Hermione was evading him and giggling – Ginny cringed at hearing Hermione giggle... she was not the giggling sort.

‘I walked in on them snogging in McGonagall’s empty classroom. I forgot my book and there they were.’

Harry made a face. 

‘They’re not as bad as Won-Won and Lav-Lav, though. At least they don’t get hot and heavy in the common room. Still, ever since Ron called Hermione his girlfriend out loud and in front of Draco, they’ve been positively revolting most of the time.’

‘Did you just call Malfoy _Draco_?’

Ginny’s heart sped up. ‘We had detention together and he wouldn’t respond to me if I called him Malfoy. Just a habit. I’m trying to break it.’

Harry seemed satisfied with the answer. ‘Well, I’d rather Ron be with Hermione. They usually don’t kiss in front of me – except for now, but when it’s just the three of us they’re completely normal. I couldn’t stand it, though, if I had to go through another three months of them not speaking to one another like last term. I almost went mad.’

Ginny laughed. ‘Neither of them would listen to reason,’ she said. ‘Hermione refused to talk to Ron and Ron was hell-bent on making Hermione jealous.’

‘Which worked.’

‘In the most terrible way.’

Harry shrugged.

‘I wonder if they’re having sex yet.’

Harry coughed. ‘ _What_?’

‘Well, it’s a perfectly normal question,’ said Ginny. ‘They’ve been mad about one another for years now. Plus, they’ve been dating for a while.’

‘Well, yeah, I suppose.’

‘Ron hasn’t said anything to you, then?’

Harry shook his head.

Ginny sighed. ‘No, Hermione hasn’t said anything to me, either. I doubt either of them have much experience in the first place – why are you giving me that look?’

Harry turned red and mumbled, ‘Dunno.’

‘What do you know?’ asked Ginny, alarmed. ‘ _What did Ron do with Lavender?_ ’

‘Oh, nothing even close to what _you’ve_ done,’ snapped Harry. ‘So don’t make it sound as though he’s done something _wrong_.’

‘What is it?’

‘Just a bit of touching.’

‘A bit?’

‘A lot. More than Hermione did with Krum, I can practically guarantee, but he stopped almost completely around February. I don’t know why Lavender didn’t get the hint. The only place his mouth ever went was her mouth – and I heard that from Lavender,’ said Harry, shuddering, probably at the memory of such a discussion with Lavender. ‘Although, Ron did say once that Lavender took off her shirt and he didn’t want to look at her. I asked him if he liked boys.’

‘I bet that went over well.’

Harry shrugged. ‘It was amusing – for me anyway.’

‘I bet he didn’t want to look at her because she wasn’t Hermione and he felt guilty that things were progressing to that level and he wasn’t emotionally invested in her.’

Harry blinked. ‘Wha—? Oh, sure, that’s probably it.’

‘Oh, Harry, you’re such a boy. I’m glad they’re together now, aren’t you?’

‘I suppose.’

‘They’re happy.’

Harry nodded. ‘I noticed.’

‘I wouldn’t mind being happy like that,’ said Ginny, looking longingly at her brother and Hermione.

‘Ginny, I—’

‘Don’t, Harry,’ said Ginny, closing her Charms book. ‘I think I’m going to go down and get dinner.’

‘I’m a bit hungry myself—’

‘I fancy a walk by myself. You understand.’

Harry didn’t look as though he even remotely understood, but he nodded and stayed seated as Ginny climbed through the portrait hole and into the corridor in front of Gryffindor Tower. She straightened her jumper and made her way slowly down the hallway towards the staircases. As she neared the Great Hall, she heard a small cry. She rounded the corner by a suit of armour and watched, horrified as a second-year kept standing up, trying to walk, and then promptly falling over as though his feet were tied together.

From the other side of the armour, Ginny heard someone sniggering. She marched over there and found Draco hiding behind it, his wand held out.

‘What are you doing?’ she shrieked.

‘He’s just a second-year.’

‘ _Stop it_ ,’ she ordered.

‘What do you care? That’s a Hufflepuff and we both know that he’s not worth the dust he’s standing on.’

Ginny put her hands on her hips. ‘If you don’t stop _right now_ I’m not going to meet you for two whole weeks,’ she hissed.

Draco wet his lips and groaned in frustration, but flicked his wand anyway, and the invisible rope around the boy’s feet disappeared. He scrambled into the Great Hall looking highly distressed.

‘That was a terrible thing to do. I thought you were over that sort of behaviour?’

‘I wasted all of last year on trying to kill Dumbledore,’ said Draco, his voice low. ‘I missed out on a whole year of deviant behaviour.’

‘You’re making up for it with me.’

Draco’s mouth curled up into a smile – but it was a cold, calculating smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of parchment.

‘I was going to go to the Owlery after dinner and send this to you, but since you’re here.’ Draco reached behind Ginny and put the parchment in the back pocket of her jeans. ‘Write to me on that parchment.’ He quickly withdrew his hand and winked. ‘Be sure to use that quill and ink I gave you.’

Ginny nodded and watched him walk away, her backside still heated from where he touched her and her chest still thumping. Oh, her heart. Things _never_ felt like this with Harry.

XXXXXXX

After dinner, Ginny went upstairs, took a shower, put on her pyjamas, grabbed the parchment, quill, and ink, and climbed into bed. She looked at the blank parchment. Draco wanted her to write him, but what would she possibly say.

_Start with Dear Draco_.

No, no, no. If someone saw the letter and recognised her handwriting.

_Start with Dear D_.

No, D was still suspicious as well. Too bad she didn’t have a nickname for him. Then, it hit her. She did. Sort of, anyway. Smiling to herself, she dipped her quill into the ink bottle and put it to the paper.

_Dear Ferret Boy_ – 

But that’s not what appeared on the paper. Instead the words, _Ginny, this parchment_ , were spelt out instead. Ginny’s heart began to race and she nearly fell off the bed in shock. Not again. No, not again! She’d already been possessed once by a book – she was _not_ going to be possessed again by a stupid piece of parchment.

_I need a backup plan_.

Ginny raced out of the dormitory and down the stairs. Luckily, Hermione was in the common room, talking by the fire to Harry and Ron.

‘Hermione, I need a favour.’

The bushy-haired seventh-year looked up with questioning eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Er, I need to talk to you. Look, it’s really, really important. Please?’

Hermione nodded. ‘All right.’

Ginny went back up the stairs, Hermione close behind her. Once inside the dormitory, Ginny closed the door. She had to think fast.

‘Look, I got this letter...’

‘What kind of letter? Ginny, are you all right? You’re horribly flushed.’

Ginny waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine, but I need you to do me a favour. I got this letter and the parchment was blank, so I tried to write on it, but the words that are coming on the paper aren’t _my_ words. I need you to stay here while I find out what the rest of the writing says.’

Hermione looked perplexed.

‘I was possessed once by a book. I need someone here in case I go all wonky.’

Hermione nodded. ‘Of course, of course. Who is the letter from?’

‘Er...’ Ginny had hoped to avoid that particular question.

‘Is it from the same someone you’ve been meeting late at night when you come back to the common room after midnight?’

Ginny felt her face heat up.

‘I thought as much. Who is it, then?’

‘No one.’

‘Ginny, please. I’m not stupid. I know you’re meeting a boy. Sooner or later Ron is going to figure it out as well – although probably later because he _is_ a bit daft in this sort of area.’

‘Hermione, please, just let me finish the letter, all right?’

Hermione sighed, but nodded. She sat herself down on one of the desk chairs belonging to one of Ginny’s old roommates.

Ginny sat back down on the bed and took a deep breath. She dipped the quill into the ink bottle again and began to write.

_Ginny, this parchment is covered in magic ink. I spared no expense by purchasing a set of magic quills at Scrivenshaft’s. When you want to write a note to me, you use the quill and ink I gave you. When the note is done, the ink will promptly disappear. Only my quill and ink can make the message appear, although if you show this parchment to anyone else, they will simply see it as a mess of random indecipherable letters since the letter is not intended for them to read._

_We’ll use this to set up times to meet in the old classroom. Meet me there at ten-thirty._

_-D._

_Post Script: My father sent me a letter today._

Ginny was still breathing hard when she finished. So, the parchment was harmless after all. That still didn’t mean she wasn’t going to kill Draco when ten-thirty came around.

XXXXXXX

The door to the classroom opened and shut. Draco watched as Ginny pulled Potter’s Invisibility Cloak from her and became visible before his eyes. She was wearing pyjamas – a yellow long-sleeved shirt and yellow and white striped bottoms; both looked as though they were made of flannel. Instead of giving him a smile or a kiss, she punched him in the arm – _hard_.

‘What the fuck!’ he demanded, rubbing his arm.

‘You’re a thoughtless prick!’ she yelled.

‘Shh!’ Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door and Imperturbed the room. ‘What in the name of Salazar Slytherin did I do? Shit, Gin, you hit _hard_.’

‘You should know that I’m scared of things that talk back to me.’

‘What the _fuck_ are you on about?’

‘The letter you sent me!’ Ginny looked on the verge of tears. ‘You should’ve told me that when I wrote on it my words wouldn’t show up, but yours would. I thought that it was another one of your father’s Dark objects. The last time parchment talked back to me was when I was eleven and possessed by Voldemort. How do you think I felt when that parchment talked back to me without any warning?’

‘I – oh. Shite. I’m sorry.’

‘I mean, I was sitting there, thinking of what I should write to you and – what did you say?’

‘Er...’

‘Did you just apologise?’ The tears in her eyes seemed as though they were slowly evaporating. 

‘No.’

‘You did! You said you were sorry.’ Ginny smiled, although it looked like a sad smile. ‘In that case, I accept your apology.’ She rubbed the last bits of tears from her eyes. 

‘I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.’

‘I’m afraid of being possessed again,’ said Ginny simply. ‘I didn’t like it the first time. I don’t think I’d like it happening again.’ Her eyes looked as though they were becoming wet again.

‘Right... right... I don’t like crying girls,’ said Draco. ‘Can you stop?’

‘Sensitive one, you are.’ Ginny pointed her wand at one of the desks and Vanished all the dust on it. She sat and crossed her arms over her chest.

‘You’re fine, nothing _possessed_ you. Stop being a brat about it.’

‘Don’t you feel bad, though? You scared me to death.’ Ginny pulled up the sleeve of her shirt and showed Draco a developing bruise on her elbow. ‘I fell off my bed.’

‘That’s... too bad.’

‘We’re going to have to work on your sympathy skills.’

For lack of anything either witty or nasty to say, Draco simply said, ‘All right.’

Ginny sighed loudly. ‘Tell me about the letter from your father.’

Draco nodded. He looked away from Ginny and out the broken window, inhaling the cold air that made his lungs burn.

‘It’s almost March, yeah? Four more months of school. Then I’m expected to go home and go through initiation.’

‘You’re going home? Is that where your father is?’

Draco nodded.

‘The Ministry hasn’t done any raids on your house since your father escaped from Azkaban?’

‘Of course they have. Do you think we live in some sort of hovel? My house is a mansion – there are loads of secret rooms, hidden rooms,’ he said, turning back towards her.

Ginny looked as though she might be impressed, which made Draco feel almost... happy. She seemed as if she’d be a hard girl to impress.

‘My father said they’ve been planning it for the last month – the initiation, that is. This is my last chance not to disgrace or dishonour him.’

‘Are you scared?’

‘No.’

‘You can tell me,’ said Ginny. ‘I can keep secrets.’

‘No, I’m not scared,’ Draco reiterated. ‘I just don’t think I want to be a Death Eater any longer.’

‘Like I said before—’

‘I don’t want to run away, either,’ he interrupted. ‘And I don’t know if I’m strong enough at Occlumency to be a spy.’

‘We can have someone test you.’

‘What?’

Ginny nodded and looked excited at the thought. ‘Sure, of course! I’m sure Tonks or Lupin would do it—’

‘No.’

‘But—’

‘I said, no.’

‘You’re not being reasonable. I think I know you well enough by now to know that even if you pass the initiation you’ll never make it as a Death Eater. You’ll be given an assignment and you won’t be able to do it.’

‘I’m glad you have so much faith in me,’ snapped Draco.

‘I _do_ have faith in you,’ Ginny insisted. ‘I have faith that underneath that arrogant, bitchy exterior that you’re a good person... sort of, anyway. So what if you don’t join the Order? You’re not on _their_ side. Let Tonks or Lupin test you – let them see if they can break into your head. If they can’t, then you’ll know you’re powerful at it.’

‘They can’t be as powerful at Occlumency as the Dark Lord.’

‘Maybe not, but they’re both very powerful themselves. You don’t know them like I do. They’re _very_ powerful. Well – we should get Tonks to do it. She’s stronger than Lupin at the moment, I believe.’

Draco shrugged. ‘When?’

‘They’re supposed to come to the school next weekend to begin my training. We’re to meet in the Room of Requirement. I’ll bring you.’

‘That’ll go over well.’

‘I’ll warn them first, silly,’ said Ginny. 

Draco felt her eyes bore into him. He felt unusually self-conscious under her gaze. Every silver-blonde hair on top of his head was all in place; his shirt was crisp, black, and moulded perfectly to his upper torso; his jeans were almost to perfection, as were his dragon hide boots. He knew he looked good – well-dressed... presentable...? He couldn’t tell what Ginny thought, but he found himself hoping she thought he looked good. 

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ said Draco. ‘I think I should just join them.’

‘But you _can’t_.’

‘Why? Because _you_ don’t want me to?’

‘No – because you’re not like them!’

‘I think purity of the wizarding race is the most important thing. There is nothing without money and power. How is that not like them?’

Ginny groaned in frustration. ‘You’re infuriating. When they tell you to go kill a household of Muggles and you can’t do it, then you can come back and tell me I was right: You are not like them.’

Draco wet his lips. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Draco – you are not like them. You’re not. All right?’

‘I’m not like you either.’

Ginny smiled. ‘I know. That’s one of the reasons I like you. I know that you’ll never concede just to stop an argument – it’s good knowing that. I like a good argument. Draco? Are you listening? You look a bit ill.’

 

‘I’m fine.’

‘You still seem a bit thin.’

‘Do I?’

‘Well, last year you seemed to lose so much weight.’

‘It was the stress,’ said Draco truthfully.

‘You still look sick. Are you – are you sure you’re not scared?’

Draco shook his head.

‘You’re lying,’ said Ginny simply. ‘I heard last year you cried in the boys’ toilet. If you cried in front of me, I wouldn’t laugh.’

Draco felt the heat rise to his face and desperately hoped he wasn’t blushing. ‘Who told you—?’ But Draco already knew the answer; Potter walked in on him and proceeded to try to kill them. Thankfully, Snape had arrived in time.

‘What are you scared of, Draco?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Are you scared that your father will be angry if you can’t pass initiation?’

‘No.’

‘Are you scared that the Dark Lord is going to kill you?’

‘I – no. Yes. It’s not death. It’s the torturing and being left to wander around aimlessly in a madhouse for the rest of my life. I don’t like pain. I don’t like hurting. I – I don’t like feeling.’

‘Is that why you always act so cold and mean towards everyone?’

Draco gave her a noncommittal shrug.

‘I don’t think your problem is that you don’t feel enough. I think you feel too much and it drives you mad.’

 

Draco swallowed.

‘What are you feeling right now?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Draco!’ cried Ginny, shaking her head. Some of her hair slipped out of her ponytail. ‘Want to know what I’m feeling?’

Draco made sure not to verbalise an answer; his body remained stiff and rigid, emotionless, but he wanted her to continue and tell him. He wanted to know.

‘My hands are a bit shaky and I’m really aware of my heart beating. It’s not beating abnormally fast, just... harder. And I’m hot.’

Draco swallowed. ‘Hot?’

Ginny nodded. ‘Your turn.’

‘Oh. Er – I’m confused.’

‘About what?’

‘No, that’s how I’m feeling. Confused. Part of me knows I shouldn’t be here, but part of me doesn’t care.’

Ginny smiled. ‘I understand. May I ask you something?’

Draco nodded.

‘When are you going to kiss me?’

‘You want me to kiss you?’

‘Please. Yes.’ Ginny nodded.

Draco’s heart skipped three beats and he swallowed hard. He went over to her and sank to his knees in front of the chair she was seated in. She was so short and he so tall that they were almost on eye-level. Reaching up and behind her head, Draco’s fingers undid the tie she had in her hair so that it all fell down, around her shoulders and partially down her back. 

As he brushed her hair away from her eyes, he asked, ‘Why?’

‘Don’t you want to?’

Draco nodded. He ran his hands under Ginny’s shirt and placed them on her bare hips. Everything in the room felt still and silent as Draco pulled her towards him until she was seated on the edge of the chair. His head leaned back as his torso was pressed between her knees. Ginny’s red hair tickled his chin and collar bone as she bent down and brushed her lips across his. But that’s all it was – just a brush – as if she wanted him to make the next move.

_She_ did _say she wanted me to kiss her..._

Draco gave her sides a small squeeze as he parted his lips and moved to kiss her. He drew her bottom lip between his and sucked on it lightly, running his tongue across it before letting go and kissing her mouth soundly. She made a little squeak as he did so and he felt her arms go around his neck and pull him more closely to her.

His hands went further up underneath her yellow shirt and he grazed her bare breasts with his knuckles. He felt her shudder slightly under his touch and he tried not to smile as she circled her tongue around his. Feeling a groan settle in his throat, Draco bit it back by relocating his mouth to her neck, where he sucked the flesh there. He wanted – no, needed – to be closer to her. His reached his arms down and put them underneath her bum and lifted her up as he stood. Her legs wrapped around his waist, which was good because he could support her with one arm while his other hand reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wand.

It was hard to concentrate on using a nonverbal conjuring spell when Ginny was nibbling on his earlobe. After two failed attempts, Draco was able to make a crude mattress appear. Ginny didn’t remove her legs as Draco took the few steps to it and knelt down on it. He lay her back and she finally unhooked her ankles and removed her mouth from him, taking in deep breaths.

‘Still hot?’

Ginny giggled and nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘Gin, what d’you—?’

‘What?’

Draco searched her face for some sign of how far she would let him go. She must have sensed his question because she said, ‘I need to take things relatively slow. What we’ve been doing lately is brilliant, so just kiss me, all right?’

Draco nodded and moved over her, pressing his body down on top of her, covering her mouth with his.

XXXXXXX

Draco snuck through the corridors shortly before dawn, making his way to the common room. He said the password and went through the archway into Slytherin House. He stopped dead in his tracks; the clock on the wall said it was only half-five and yet there were several Slytherins in the common room already, standing in a circle.

Theodore Nott was in the middle, reading from an old, faded piece of parchment. Around him were Draco’s fellow seventh-years, Tracey Davis, and Crabbe and Goyle, as well as the children of other known Death Eaters. Draco thought a couple of younger students looked as though they were from other houses – then he realised that they were. There were three Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff; their parents were also Death Eaters and probably the only Death Eaters who had children who weren’t in Slytherin.

Nott stopped reading from the parchment and looked up, turning his head towards Draco.

‘Where’ve _you_ been?’ 

‘Out,’ said Draco. ‘What’s this?’

‘A private meeting.’

‘Apparently. Why was I kept out of the loop?’

Nott stood up straighter. ‘You’re not welcome into the circle, _Malfoy_.’

‘Why is that, _Nott_?’

‘This is for future Death Eaters. We all know what happened last year.’

Draco walked more fully into the room and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt. He held up his arm. ‘And what the fuck do you call this?’

‘A mistake,’ said Nott. ‘Get out of here, Malfoy. You’re not going to be a Death Eater so this doesn’t concern you.’

‘I’m going through another initiation at the end of the term,’ said Draco, pulling his sleeve back over his tattoo.

‘Are you?’

‘Yes,’ said Draco firmly. 

‘You’ve been sneaking out loads lately. Meeting some secret lover?’

‘No,’ said Draco, although he thought his voice quivered just a bit.

‘This might be out of your league,’ said Nott. ‘We’ve been ordered on a mission by the Dark Lord.’

 

Draco thought this highly unlikely, but he was curious to know what it was. ‘What’s the mission?’

‘To kill as many members of the Order as we can – starting with their children.’

‘Sounds like a good plan,’ said Draco, trying desperately to keep his voice normal.

‘We cannot get caught of course. We must act as quickly as possible, killing as many as we can before the end of term.’

Draco nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘But as we’ve heard that you were unable to kill Dumbledore – the old fool – I’m not sure this is a mission for you.’

‘It’s a mission set by the Dark Lord, yeah?’

Nott nodded. ‘Yes. So, are you in or are you out?’

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

 


	7. Plan of Attack

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Seven: Plan of Attack**

XXXXXXX

The next week Ginny was inundated with so many essays and homework assignments she barely found time to sleep, let alone try and find time for Draco. The more time she spent away from him, the more confused she felt. She thought him good-looking and she was attracted to him physically, but when she thought about the situation more and more, it made her sick. He had tried to kill Dumbledore – poisoned her brother! And she was snogging him. 

Draco was so cold about everything, indifferent. Ginny was sick with guilt that she allowed someone who had almost killed her brother to kiss her and touch her. _What was wrong with her?_ At the time she wasn’t bothered – no, she was, but not as much as she was now... when she had time to dwell on her actions.

A few owls had passed between them, mostly Draco telling her when to meet him and her demurring because of Quidditch practise or homework. She was worried that he would lose interest if she continued to evade him. She wanted him to remain interested, but she also wasn’t sure what to do about him. 

_He has the Dark Mark_.

She needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, no one would understand.

When February faded into March and Ginny had her first Occlumency lesson with Remus Lupin. It was the perfect distraction, she thought, from thinking about Draco. February had been cold so she was mostly stuck inside and the first few days of March had proved to be wet and sticky. The only times she got outside was to run to the greenhouses or partake in Quidditch practise, which had been lessened to only once a week. So when it came time for her first Occlumency lesson, Ginny happily strode to the Room of Requirement and found Lupin already there waiting for her across from the tapestry. He nodded his hello and gave her a half-smile. She returned it, although she knew her smile held no warmth behind it.

The room looked much like Lupin’s old office had when he was the Defence professor, only this office was much larger. There was a desk with what looked like a Pensieve on top of it and several cushions about instead of chairs. Lupin began to explain the procedure for Occlumency.

‘You have to try and block me out of your head,’ he said. ‘Clear your mind of _everything_.’

Ginny nodded. Her old professor looked tired and worn. His robes weren’t patched, but they looked as though they might be second-hand. His shoes, though, were new, or relatively so; they had a few scuff marks on them but were in great shape otherwise. Tonks must be spoiling him. At that last thought, Ginny almost giggled.

‘You might have heard stories from Harry,’ said Lupin, ‘when Snape tried to teach him.’

Ginny nodded again.

‘And that Snape saw memories that Harry didn’t want him to see.’

‘Yes.’ Then, Ginny’s pulse quickened. What if Lupin saw memories of her and Draco? This was important, though. This was a skill she needed to learn.

‘Just block me, all right?’

‘Okay.’

‘Ready?’

‘Yes.’

And then Ginny felt as though someone was pulling things out of her head. She saw herself grabbing George’s wand while he was still asleep in bed during the summer holidays and breaking into the shed behind the house and stealing his broom. She was then waking up somewhere cold and damp in the bowels of Hogwarts, looking up into Harry’s dirty twelve-year-old face.

Then, Ginny found herself on her knees in the Room of Requirement, panting. She didn’t realise how much energy this would take from her.

‘That’s all right,’ said Lupin. ‘We’ll try again when you’re ready.’

‘Thanks.’ She stood up and dusted off her knees. ‘Do you think I can learn this?’

‘You have to try every day,’ said Lupin. ‘I daresay Harry didn’t really try. So far it’s been all right because You-Know-Who hasn’t tried to break into his mind again. It might only be a matter of time.’

Ginny nodded. ‘Right.’

‘Ready?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Ginny braced herself and thought with all her might _no_ to another invasion into her mind. It didn’t work; she saw herself chasing garden gnomes at the age of three with her four- and six-year-old brothers. Then she was back with the diary again, writing her thoughts in it, waiting for it to talk back to her. Then the diary became a Death Eater, sending a curse at her and breaking her ankle. Finally, she was writing on the wall about the Chamber of Secrets being opened again— _NO!_ She tried to push Lupin out of her head.

She was on the floor again in the Room of Requirement.

‘Good,’ he said, looking a bit tired himself. ‘Once you have learned how to do it with me, I’ll have Tonks come and test you. She’s more powerful than I am at Legilimency, but she’s busy and I’m strong enough to teach you the basics.’

‘I appreciate it.’

‘I understand your fears with You-Know-Who, but when the time comes for Harry to battle him, he probably won’t try to read the mind of Harry’s girlfriend.’

‘Ex-girlfriend,’ said Ginny softly.

Lupin opened his hands as if to say ‘that’s neither here nor there.’ Before Ginny could respond, Lupin was in her mind again, but only for a short time. Ginny successfully pushed him away without even falling to the floor.

‘I think you’ll be better at this than Harry,’ said Lupin. 

‘You think so?’

‘Harry’s emotions are usually out in the open. It’s hard for him to block himself off. For you, though, it seems to be much easier.’

‘Ever since my first year I have always kept my emotions carefully hidden. I try to as much as I can, at least. I do get angry easily.’

‘Anger is not one of the more important emotions,’ said Lupin. ‘Hurt and sadness and want and jealousy are emotions we all keep hidden. Anger is not something we tend to be ashamed of.’

Ginny nodded. Lupin was wise sometimes – perhaps not with his own life but with life in general.

‘Ready?’ asked Lupin.

Ginny took in a deep breath and nodded again. When Lupin entered her mind this time she had a harder time trying to push him out. He watched her watching Harry from afar, then becoming his girlfriend and finding empty classrooms to get off. But Harry changed to Draco and they were snogging in the classroom, on the mattress, and Draco was telling her that he didn’t want to be a Death Eater and Ginny was pleading with him to become a spy—

Lupin pulled away and Ginny found herself on the floor in the Room of Requirement once more. She panted and was afraid to look up at her old professor.

‘Ginny...’ he said.

When she looked up at him, concern and worry were riddled on his face. He seemed confused, not sure of what to say.

‘I’m _sorry_ ,’ blurted Ginny. ‘Oh my God.’ She buried her face in her hands. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God.’

Then, the significance of what Lupin saw must have hit him as well because he joined in with an, ‘Oh my God,’ of his own.

Through tear-filled eyes, Ginny looked up at Lupin once more.

‘Please don’t tell my parents,’ she said.

‘Is this why you wanted to learn Occlumency?’

Ginny nodded.

‘It had nothing to do with Harry, did it?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘I was afraid someone would find out and then we’d both be dead – me and Draco. I mean, _Malfoy_!’

‘Draco?’ Lupin swallowed and sat down on a chair. ‘Draco Malfoy has a lot of problems, Ginny. He comes with baggage. His father, for one. Do you realise what went on in their household when Malfoy wasn’t in school? I’m certain that Draco probably witnessed traumatic things. Things terrible enough to give him nightmares.’

‘Like what?’ asked Ginny, very curious.

‘Lucius used to take his work home with him, and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.’

Took his work home with him? Did that mean..? Draco probably witnessed his father torture and kill people. Women? Children? Probably. It was likely another reason Draco didn’t want to hurt women.

‘I’m not your father, Ginny—’

‘Thank Merlin.’

‘—but I can tell you that getting involved with Draco Malfoy is probably one of the worst things you could do right now.’

‘I know,’ said Ginny. ‘We haven’t got together in a few weeks. I’ve been busy and he shows no remorse over almost killing Ron and Dumbledore. I don’t know if I can be involved with someone who doesn’t care that he almost killed two of my favourite people.’

‘Do you think he’s capable of remorse, Ginny? Do you think he’s capable of most emotions?’

‘I... Harry said he saw Malfoy crying in the boys’ loo once.’

Lupin merely shrugged. ‘That still doesn’t mean...’ Lupin trailed off. He looked uncomfortable, as though he would Disapparate if only Hogwarts allowed that sort of thing. 

‘Professor,’ said Ginny, ‘please... don’t tell anyone. I know what I’m doing.’

‘Ginny—’

‘I may only be sixteen, but I know. Draco’s been telling me loads of stuff about the Death Eaters and who they are. I think I’m close to convincing him to be a spy.’

‘Is that wise? We both know what happened with the last spy we had.’

‘I think it is. I don’t think Draco would double-cross us. Not like...’ Ginny had trouble forming the words. ‘ _Not like Snape_ ,’ she quickly said. ‘Draco’s different. He’s—’

‘He’s what?’

‘Aren’t you a bit like Dumbledore?’ challenged Ginny. ‘Never wanting to hate anyone else? Always looking for the benefit of the doubt? Wanting to see the good in people?’

Lupin took in a deep breath. He suddenly looked much older and more tired. His hair seemed highlighted with more grey than Ginny remembered and the blue veins in his hands were very pronounced as he rubbed his eyes.

‘I shouldn’t have this type of information,’ said Lupin. ‘I don’t want it. You’ve put me in quite the predicament.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ginny truthfully. ‘I can’t help it. The more I think about it, the less I want to be involved with someone who has done such horrible things. I think he feels bad about it, though, I really do. He just doesn’t _show_ it. Anyone can be redeemed, can’t they, sir?’

‘Ohh, Ginny, I don’t know how to answer such a thing. Anyone? I don’t know about “anyone”. Can You-Know-Who be redeemed? I doubt it.’

‘If I bring him, will you test him on his Occlumency? If you can break in, then we’ll know he needs practise. Perhaps you’ll be able to see if he’s really changed. He wants to change sides, I know he does, but that could prove it, couldn’t it?’

‘Harry said Snape tried to use Legilimency against Malfoy last term and it didn’t work. I’m not as powerful as Snape,’ said Lupin helplessly.

‘He hasn’t been practising like he should. He told me as much. And aren’t you almost as powerful?’

‘When there’s not a full moon.’

‘Oh,’ said Ginny, her spirits dropping slightly.

‘I’ll do it after the next full moon is over and done with, all right?’

Ginny smiled. ‘Thanks, professor.’

XXXXXXX

_So, are you in or are you out?_

Those words kept echoing inside Draco’s brain. Ever since the end of sixth year, the teachers and staff had been keeping a close watch on him. If he was to kill someone they’d surely know it. At least, that’s what he told Nott, the great sod. It seemed like a very good argument, though. And part of Draco was sure that the teachers _were_ watching him, although not very hard or someone would have noticed Ginny and him already.

Although, since Draco had said he was in, he was surrounded by Death Eaters and potential Death Eaters all the time. At dinner one evening in March, Draco sat looking at his roasted potatoes, daydreaming about Ginny. He hadn’t got to kiss her in over three weeks and the lack of contact was driving him mad.

‘I’ve got Ginny Weasley,’ said Nott, stuffing a rather large forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

Draco snapped his head up. ‘You what?’

‘I _said_ , I’ve got Ginny Weasley. Y’know, for the mission.’

Draco’s eyes narrowed. ‘It’s been how long and you haven’t killed anyone yet? And you choose the baby Weasel?’

‘What’s wrong with her?’

_She’s mine_ , thought Draco. ‘Nothing, but I’d ask the Dark Lord before you go trying to kill her. You kill her and Potter will go traipsing off to find the Dark Lord to try and kill him, I guarantee it.’

‘Oh,’ said Nott with a slight snort. ‘She’s not going to be killed.’

Draco blinked a few times. She – what? If she wasn’t going to be killed then what did Nott want with her? She wasn’t _Nott’s_ ; she was _his_.

‘I thought the mission was to—’

‘Yes, kill Mudbloods, half-Muggles, and children of the Order. But the Dark Lord gave _me_ a special mission. He wants Ginny Weasley for himself.’

‘To do what with her?’

Nott shrugged. ‘It wasn’t my place to ask.’

What could the Dark Lord possibly want with Ginny? Unless to entice Potter to go fight him?

‘When does he want her?’ asked Draco.

‘The next Quidditch match.’

‘Why?’

‘Perfect opportunity to take her,’ said Nott. ‘She’ll be out in the open.’

Draco was sceptical. ‘And _you’re_ going to take her? What rot.’

‘ _No_ ,’ snapped Nott. ‘I’m to _prepare_ her to be taken.’

‘Prepare? What the fuck have you been drinking, Nott? She’s not a turkey. You’re not going to bake her. Prepare her for what?’

‘She’s a Chaser, isn’t she? If I can get Potter out of commission so that she has to play Seeker, then charm the Snitch to fly really high, and have some Death Eaters waiting to grab her when she’s so far up that no one else can see her.’

It was an idiotic plan in Draco’s opinion. Unfortunately, idiotic plans sometimes worked. He had to figure out a way to either keep Potter in the game or Ginny out of it.

‘You’re going to help me,’ said Nott.

‘Doing what?’

‘Getting Potter out of the way.’

Draco nodded. ‘Right. I can do that.’ Although, Draco really had no idea how he was supposed to go about doing it and keeping Ginny safe at the same time. He supposed the best way to go about it would be to just come clean with Ginny. After all, she made him promise to be honest with her. 

‘Good,’ said Nott. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Er – I don’t know. Not yet. I’ll have to think about it and find the perfect opportunity.’

‘You could jinx his broom for the next Quidditch practise,’ suggested Nott.

‘That’s a rubbish idea,’ said Draco. ‘I’m positive McGonagall could trace simple jinxes like that. I’ll figure something out.’

‘The next match is in two weeks. It has to be done by then.’

Draco finished the potatoes on his plate and nodded. He swallowed and picked up his goblet filled with pumpkin juice. His eyes glanced towards the Gryffindor table; Ginny was facing him, but her eyes kept flicking between Neville and Harry – then, she laughed. Her lips curled up into a bright smile and she threw her head back, her chest bouncing up and down. When she stopped laughing, she wiped at her eyes, the smile still on her face. She looked right at him after that. His blood ran hot and his fingers tingled. Somehow, an agreement passed between them and Draco knew he would be meeting her tonight.

XXXXXXX

It was nearly midnight when Draco reached the deserted classroom. When he tried the door handle, it was locked, so he took his wand out of his back pocket and tapped the knob. He went inside and Imperturbed the door as it closed.

Ginny was there in her pyjamas – a red fitted t-shirt with the Weird Sisters logo and a pair of flannel bottoms, pale yellow, the same colour as the writing on her shirt. Her hair was in two plaits tied with red bands, but a few wisps fell around her face. With her hair plaited like that she looked small and innocent. The expression on her face was sad and Draco knew he had to talk to her before he could snog her – although he would prefer to do the talking later.

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Since nine,’ said Ginny.

‘You waited that long?’

She shrugged. ‘I finished my homework for the week,’ she said, pointing to the stack of books and parchment on the desk in front of her.

‘Oh.’

‘What did you want to talk to me about?’ 

‘I didn’t want to _talk_ ,’ said Draco. ‘I haven’t seen you in over three weeks.’

‘You see me everyday. We eat in the same hall—’

‘You know that’s not what I meant.’

Ginny nodded.

‘What’s wrong?’

She shrugged.

‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

Ginny beckoned him over to her. He went and knelt down in front of her at her eye-level. She took his arm and pulled back the sleeve of his long-sleeved green t-shirt. Pointing at the Dark Mark she said, ‘That.’

‘You said you could get over that.’ Draco snatched his arm out of her grip and stood up.

‘I thought I could!’ Ginny exclaimed. ‘But you have no remorse over anything. You don’t act like you feel bad about almost killing my brother!’

‘Why are you telling me this _now_? We had this discussion ages ago.’

‘I don’t know. I’ve had time to think about it. You used to be a Death Eater, Draco, and that _scares_ me when I think about what that entails. You tried to kill someone.’

‘So what? I’m different now, I think.’

‘Are you? You haven’t even decided if you’re going to switch sides! You still might go through the initiation—’

‘The Dark Lord is planning on kidnapping you.’

Ginny paled and gasped. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Nott planned a secret meeting for the children of Death Eaters and Death Eaters who are Hogwarts students. I accidentally walked in on it one morning. Nott asked me if I was in or out and I said I was in. They supposedly have some mission to kill as many students here as they can – Mudbloods, half-bloods, and children of the Order.’

‘No one’s died, though,’ said Ginny.

‘Yet.’

‘Oh. Oh, I see. _Yet_. And they’re going to kill _me_?’

‘No,’ said Draco, ‘they’re going to kidnap you. Nott said the Dark Lord wants you. They’re going to take you at the next Quidditch match. You’re to play Seeker and when you fly up high, out of sight, that’s when they’ll take you.’

‘But Harry’s Seeker.’

‘That’s my job. To make sure Harry can’t play.’

Ginny’s eyes turned glassy with tears.

‘Oh, shite, don’t cry.’

‘Shut up, Draco,’ snapped Ginny, wiping at her eyes. ‘You just told me that someone is planning on kidnapping me. Why are you telling me this?’

‘To show you that I can play both sides.’

‘Oh, shite, this means I need to learn Occlumency and _fast_.’

‘Haven’t you been meeting with the werewolf?’

‘Yes. I – he knows, Draco.’

‘He knows what?’

‘About us. When he used Legilimency on me – I wasn’t able to block out those memories and I—’

‘Get a Pensieve,’ Draco said suddenly.

‘What?’

‘Find a Pensieve. And use it to extract memories of me, of us. Take all the thoughts out of your head before the Quidditch match, just in case.’

‘If Voldemort used Legilimency on me, wouldn’t he be able to tell that I fancied you?’

‘Him thinking you fancy me is not as bad as him knowing we’ve kissed.’

Ginny nodded. ‘You’re right.’ She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. ‘You scare me,’ she whispered. ‘I want you to feel sorry for poisoning Ron and cursing Katie... but you don’t. It seems like you don’t feel anything. I know you do, though. I _know_ it. I wish you’d show me.’

‘Don’t I show you?’

‘No,’ said Ginny, ‘you don’t. You show me you’re randy, that you have a bit of passion, but that’s all. Nothing else. You’re never happy or sad or angry. You’re just always... empty.’

‘I’m not empty.’

‘What’s made you like this? I want to _see_ you feel something. Because right now I’m under the impression that if something happened to me you would be completely indifferent.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Isn’t it, though? You don’t _care_ about anything and if you don’t care, then you’re indifferent.’

‘I’m not indifferent.’

Ginny rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t be with someone who shows no remorse over almost killing someone else. When Harry hit you with that curse and thought he killed you, he was really upset.’

‘Right. I forgot about your precious Potter.’

‘Stop!’ shouted Ginny, dropping her knees, her feet hitting the floor with a muted stomp. ‘He’s not my precious Potter! He gave me up! He didn’t want to be with me – gave me a noble excuse – then kissed me over the summer and flirted with me as though we were going to get back together, then I woke up one morning and he was _gone_ – back to headquarters without so much as a word to me. Whatever we did over the summer was a mistake. He couldn’t help himself. He let me go _again_. He says he’s in love with me, but if he wanted me enough he wouldn’t care about Voldemort or Death Eaters. I’m a target because I’m his friend. I’m a target because my family is the biggest bunch of blood traitors there is. If he loved me enough he wouldn’t have broken up with me. And he certainly wouldn’t have had some _fling_ with a Muggle over the Christmas holiday as though I didn’t even exist. So he is _not_ my precious Potter. Not anymore.’

Draco looked at her. Her anger had caused her cheeks to flush and her chest to heave up and down slightly from breathing so hard.

‘If you love someone you’ll do whatever it takes to be with them.’

‘Potter’s in love with you?’

‘That’s what he said,’ answered Ginny in a very soft voice.

‘Interesting.’

‘Have you ever been in love?’

Draco shook his head. ‘Of course not. Have you?’

‘Yes,’ said Ginny without hesitation. 

‘With Potter?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shite,’ said Draco, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes. ‘Shite,’ he repeated. 

‘I know – he’s the one boy you hate the most. I’m sorry.’

‘I might have felt a little guilty about your brother,’ said Draco slowly, removing his hands from his face. ‘No, that’s not true at all. I felt something, but I don’t think it was guilt. I was upset about it, though.’

‘Did you cry?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Did you cry? I know you used to go into the boys’ loo to cry.’

‘I was frustrated,’ snarled Draco. ‘It wasn’t as though I was crying like a little girl.’

‘At least you were showing some emotion,’ said Ginny. ‘Now all I see is short bursts of anger, then back to indifference.’

‘I have emotions. I’ve learned it’s better to suppress everything that way I don’t ever get hurt. Feeling hurt is a useless emotion. D’you understand?’ Draco groaned in frustration when Ginny shook her head. ‘Look, do you know how to use Legilimency?’

Ginny shook her head.

‘Here’s how you do it. Wait, come here.’ Draco reached his hand out; Ginny took it and he pulled her up from the desk chair. He sat down on the floor and told Ginny to face him. When she sat, he took both her hands in his and entwined their fingers together. 

‘All right,’ he said, ‘having physical contact will make it easier. Clear your mind and look in my eyes. Try to reach out with your mind and touch mine. I’ll keep it open for you.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m going to push memories forward – memories so you can see why I am the way I am, so you can see that you have the wrong idea about me.’

Ginny nodded. ‘All right.’

‘When you’re ready say, _Legilimens_ and point your wand at me.’

‘But you’re holding my hand.’

Draco dropped his left hand, letting Ginny’s right go free. Her wand had been tucked into the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and she slipped it out and pointed it at Draco.

‘Ready?’

‘I think so.’

Draco looked into her chocolate eyes. They looked scared, apprehensive. This wasn’t something to be nervous about. He was going to show her things he never showed anyone else. _He_ should be the scared and apprehensive one. Somehow, though, he wasn’t. Ginny was good and even though these memories were mostly bad, she would be there when he was done remembering. She would make things better.

‘Wait,’ said Ginny. She looked right at him before her eyes slipped down to his mouth. She leaned forward and kissed him softly and quickly. ‘All right. Now I’m ready.’

XXXXXXX

It took four tries before Ginny found herself floating around inside Draco’s head. She was sure this wasn’t how actual Legilimency worked because no one was fighting against her invasion. She felt as though she was walking around an empty room, a void of space. Everything was foggy, but she was fully aware that everything around her was Draco.

Then, suddenly, she was watching a scene from Draco’s past as though it was projected on a Muggle movie screen.

A small, white-headed boy, maybe three or four years old, ran around a large back garden, up and down hills, splashing in puddles and getting himself all muddy. The sky above him looked a bit grey, but a bright yellow sun was shining down on him, causing him to sweat. He was laughing in a high-pitched, childlike way. Running after him was a house-elf wearing a lacy napkin around her waist that was once probably stark white, but was now brown and stained. For a shirt she had on what looked like two knitted coasters sewn together. The house-elf was panting, trying to keep up with the little boy.

‘ _DRACO!_ ’ a feminine voice shouted from far away.

The little boy stopped running and turned around. Ginny could see a large house – well, a mansion, really – and the figure of a woman standing outside. The little Draco ran towards the house, falling once over a small rock and getting the palms of his hands dirty. He picked himself up without so much as a cry and ran all the way to the house.

‘Mummy!’

He hugged the silver-haired lady around the knees, getting her robin’s-egg blue robes muddy.

‘Your father’s home,’ she said. ‘Take Bitty and get cleaned up.’

The house-elf panted behind Draco, gasping for air.

‘No need for that,’ a thicker, deeper voice said.

Little Draco turned around and looked up at his father – Ginny knew it was Lucius because the man looked exactly the same, only younger. Draco’s eyes were wide and filled with fear, as though he had never seen the man in front of him before.

‘Why is he covered in mud?’

‘He was playing in the—’

‘He can play without getting filthy,’ snapped Lucius. ‘What do you have to say to your father, son?’

Draco looked up at his mother.

 

‘He doesn’t know you,’ she said. ‘You’ve been gone for seven months. He’s no idea who you are.’

‘I’ve had business to attend to. And it hasn’t been seven months.’

‘For him, it is. You Apparate in every couple weeks after he’s gone to bed and Disapparate before he wakes up.’

Lucius pointed his wand at Draco. ‘ _Scourgify!_ ’ Once all the mud and dirt was vanished from Draco’s body, Lucius said, ‘Don’t you know any proper manners? Say hello to your father.’

‘Hello,’ squeaked Draco, moving to hide behind his mother.

‘This is disgusting. I’m his father and he’s hiding behind _you_.’ Lucius slammed his cane down onto the floor. ‘Tell one of the house-elves I want dinner sent up to my study in half an hour. And send that boy to bed. I’m tired of looking at him already.’

That must have been the end of the memory because the next thing Ginny saw was an older Draco, probably around the age of eight, playing on a paved neighbourhood street with two other children – a chubby little boy with dark brown hair and a towheaded girl with skin so pale it was almost translucent. 

This older Draco laughed as he ran, being chased by the girl. Ginny thought they must in a Muggle neighbourhood near Wiltshire by the looks of the houses. Were these other children Muggles? It seemed strange that Draco would be playing with people he was supposed to hate.

A loud _crack_ sounded and all the children stopped. Lucius had Apparated onto the sidewalk and looked down at Draco. Lucius looked fierce and mean, his eyes dark and his cheeks red from what was probably heat and fury. 

‘Your mother said you snuck out of the house.’

Draco nodded.

‘Bitty was supposed to watch you, was she not? _Bitty!_ ’

From beside Lucius, the house-elf from the first memory appeared. The two children gaped at it.

‘What is that?’ the little girl asked, approaching the house-elf.

Lucius took his cane and smacked it across the little girl’s arm. Ginny heard a distinctive crack and cringed as the girl began to gasp and cry. Draco’s father ignored her as though she wasn’t even there.

‘Bitty, weren’t you supposed to be watching Draco?’

‘Yes, Bitty was, sir. But little sir told Bitty to get him a sandwich from the kitchens, sir.’

‘Didn’t I tell you not to let Draco out of your sight?’

Bitty pulled on her ears. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Do you know what happens to bad house-elves?’

Bitty nods. ‘But if it pleases, sir, Bitty won’t never do it again.’

‘It doesn’t please me.’ Lucius waved his wand and conjured up a short iron rod. ‘Hold it,’ he told Bitty, who took it in her little hands. Then he conjured up a fire and told Bitty to hold the iron rod over the flames. Ginny could barely watch the little elf as her hands burnt from the hot metal.

‘What are you doing?’ the chubby boy asked.

Lucius turned and looked at the boy as if seeing him for the first time. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Hugh.’

The expression on Lucius’ face made him look as though he just ate a particularly rank piece of cabbage. ‘You’re a Muggle. _Draco_ , what are you doing playing in the street with trash and vermin?’

‘I didn’t know they were Muggle,’ said Draco lamely.

‘ _You didn’t know?_ How could you not know!’

‘I was tired of Mother’s lessons. I had enough of reading about the Goblin Rebellion so when I asked for a break, I went on a walk.’

‘Your mother told you to go up to your room to nap. She didn’t give you permission to leave the house.’

‘It was _so_ boring. I fancied a walk. I would have gone for a fly if you hadn’t locked up my broom.’

Lucius arched an eyebrow.

‘It’s true. I was _bored_. The Goblin Rebellion is dull. And these two were playing a game and I wanted to join.’

‘Don’t blame him, sir,’ said the boy named Hugh. ‘We asked him to play with us.’ Next to him, the girl was still crying over her arm.

‘Do shut up,’ snarled Lucius.

‘But—’

Lucius pointed his wand at the boy. ‘ _Crucio_ ,’ he said in a rather bored voice. As the boy doubled over and screamed in pain, Lucius loomed over Draco, warning him to never play with Muggles again. ‘Muggles are trash, filth. They are _not_ your friends. They will only betray you, bring you pain, and destroy you. They don’t understand power because they do not have it. _We_ are powerful. They are weak and being caught with them will only bring you trouble. You don’t want trouble, do you?’

Draco shook his head.

‘You don’t want to be at the other end of the Cruciatus Curse, do you?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Good. Muggles don’t understand our ways. They think _we’re_ the evil ones, but we know the truth. They would kill _us_ if they had the power to. Do you understand that you can never trust them? I never want to see you associate with Muggles ever again. _Do you understand?_ ’ 

Draco nodded. ‘Yes, Father.’

‘I’ll see you at home. You know the way.’

Lucius Disapparated, lifting the Cruciatus Curse and Draco turned to look at the two Muggle children, both crying in pain.

The next few memories were significantly shorter. The first was when Draco was eleven. His face had the same pointed features, but his skin looked softer, younger. It was on the Hogwarts Express – Draco asked a wild-haired boy to be his friend and the boy refused, choosing to be friends with someone else, someone poor and meaningless.

The second one was of a twelve-year-old Draco standing outside his father’s study, looking through the crack of an open door. Only his mother was visible, blonde and severe-looking. But Ginny heard the voice of Lucius Malfoy. His voice was thick in the air—

‘He’s staying at school. Two months out of the year is enough. He’ll only interfere with my plans if he comes home for Christmas.’

‘What plans? Lucius, I want my son home for Christmas. You can put your plans on hold—’

‘I will not put anything on hold for Draco. He has yet to prove he deserves to be home.’

‘How can he prove anything? You won’t give him the chance. You barely talk to him. You don’t know who he is. He thinks he hates him—’

The next thing Ginny saw was a large, pale hand reach out and strike Narcissa across the face. She fell to the floor and put a hand to her mouth. When she withdrew it, her fingertips had blood on them.

The next few memories were all of Draco and Daphne. Fourteen-year-old Draco being turned down for the Yule Ball. Then, a series of recollections of harmless to heavy flirting between Daphne and him. The last of those memories was when Daphne told him they had to stop their affair because she wanted to be with Blaise Zabini and only Blaise Zabini.

The very last thing Ginny saw in Draco’s head was herself, the very first time they met in the classroom and kissed. She looked different in Draco’s head than she did in her own. She looked prettier than she thought she did in real life, but if that’s how Draco saw her—

Suddenly Ginny was back in the deserted classroom with a terrible headache. Her vision was a bit blurry and she fell backwards on to the stone floor. Draco leaned over her, on his knees.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m not used to this,’ said Ginny. ‘When Lupin does it to me I get tired, but he doesn’t stay in my head that long. So I only feel tired and that’s all. I’m okay.’

Draco sat back on his heels and watched as Ginny propped herself up on her elbows.

‘Do you see why I act indifferent so often?’

Ginny nodded. ‘Because no one ever wanted you.’

Draco’s lips were pressed hard together, making his mouth seem like a very straight line.

‘Your father wasn’t around – always away on business. When he _was_ around, he was cruel. He tried to teach you to hate others by torturing them in front of you. Daphne didn’t want you any more than your father did. It’s all made you very cold. But you feel, don’t you? You feel when you’re with me – that’s why you showed me that last memory. And you felt last year when you cried in the boys’ loo. I wish you could feel all the time. I understand, now, why you cut yourself off from emotions. You’ve been hurt.’

Draco didn’t agree or disagree; he only stood up and walked to the broken window. Ginny stood as well and walked up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry no one ever acted as though they wanted you. Your mother loves you, that much is obvious. Don’t think that she’s the only one who wants you.’ Ginny wet her lips and closed her eyes. ‘I want you.’

 

‘No, you’re scared of me,’ said Draco, still facing the window. ‘You don’t want to be with someone who poisoned your brother.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ginny said again. ‘I should have come to you and talked to you about it. You can learn to feel again, Draco. Let me help you.’

Ginny had to loosen her grip around him as Draco turned around to face her. He looked down at her; he was a good head taller than she was.

‘I made you two promises, remember?’

Ginny nodded.

‘I can’t make you any more.’

Ginny nodded again. ‘Okay,’ she whispered. ‘I can still help you, though, can’t I? You feel when you’re with me, don’t you? Your memory showed me that you did.’

Draco barely nodded.

‘So I can help you.’

‘You try to be too noble. You’re so much like Potter.’

‘Please don’t say his name,’ said Ginny. ‘It’ll only make me feel worse.’

‘All right. No mentions of Potter. Except...’

‘Except what?’

‘I wasn’t lying when I told you there’s a plan to kidnap you.’

‘Oh. Right. I just won’t play in the match.’

‘You can’t just not play. That would be too fishy.’

‘I’ll go to the hospital wing.’

‘With what?’ asked Draco. ‘It has to be something _good_ or else it’ll look suspicious. You’ll need to be poisoned or passed out or have a bone broken or something.’

‘That’s perfect,’ said Ginny. ‘You can break my arm on Friday night. Madam Pomfrey _always_ makes students stay in the hospital for one full day with broken bones to make sure they’ve mended properly.’

‘I’m not going to break your arm.’

‘It’s all right. I can take the pain. I’ve had worse, after all. It’ll be all right. Look, it’s what we have to do to keep me safe.’

‘What about Potter? It’s my job to get him to not play in the game so you can play instead.’

Ginny thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know.’

‘If Potter’s Seeker then Nott will think that I’m not on his side. I won’t be allowed to play spy at all.’

‘Fred and George gave me a box of their newest Skiving Snackboxes. I’ll slip Harry a tiny piece of Fainting Fancy on Friday at dinner. Madam Pomfrey won’t be able to wake him up unless I give him the antidote. I’ll give it to him during the match at some point when Madam Pomfrey isn’t looking.’

‘It’s a bit scary that you’re willing to do this.’

‘I have to do it,’ said Ginny. ‘Or else be kidnapped. Or else _you_ get killed for being a traitor to Voldemort’s cause, yeah?’

Draco nodded. ‘Well, it sounds like a plan,’ he said. ‘So’ – he grinned mischievously – ‘what do you have under that Weird Sisters’ shirt?’

‘Nothing.’

Draco’s grin widened. ‘Can I see?’

XXXXXXX

Ginny spent the next two weeks working on how exactly to implement her plan. Draco told her that Nott was persistent about Harry not being Seeker in the match. In fact, he annoyed Draco so much that he put a paralysis charm on Nott’s tongue and let Madam Pomfrey sort him out. Professor Slughorn witnessed it and thought it was a good use of the charm and deducted ten house points for using the charm against another student, but granted Draco five of those points back for using it in a creative way.

The Occlumency lessons with Lupin continued. He came around the school three times a week to help Ginny learn it. He wished Harry would join them, but Harry demurred. He had no interest in having his brain broken in to. Ginny asked Lupin about a Pensieve and he brought her one.

‘It looks familiar.’

‘Dumbledore left it to me in his will,’ said Lupin. ‘I don’t know why me and not Harry. He always seemed to know things. Perhaps he knew that I’d be able to give it to someone for good use.’

Ginny smiled and accepted it. ‘Thank you.’

‘Why do you need it?’

Ginny told him. She explained about the match and the possibility of being kidnapped by Death Eaters and not knowing if she would be strong enough to keep Voldemort out of her head. She needed to make sure that he wouldn’t see any of her memories with Draco.

‘What does it feel like when you take a memory out?’

‘You feel a bit empty,’ said Lupin. ‘You know something happened and you know the parties involved, but the details are gone. If I take the memory of becoming engaged to Tonks out of my head, I would still know that we were together, but I wouldn’t know how I asked—’

‘You and Tonks are going to get married!’

‘Ohh. Yes. I suppose. Now I’ve not told a soul about your Draco secret, so you can keep that secret of mine,’ said Lupin with a wink.

Ginny nodded. ‘Oh, yes, of course! How exciting!’

‘Calm down.’

Ginny smiled. ‘Sorry. All right, well – if I take the memories of Draco out of my head, will Voldemort still know we’re together?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose he would know there is some connection between the two of you, but he might not know the exact involvement. He might not know if it’s romantic or hate-induced.’ Lupin shrugged. ‘Still, I think the less that’s in your head about him, the better.’

‘Can I shrink the Pensieve and stick it in my pocket?’

‘Er—’

‘What if I put a charm on it that won’t let it break or spill?’

Lupin nodded. ‘Yes, of course. But you cannot let anyone else find it on your person.’

‘Of course not.’

‘Now, tell me more about this plan the Death Eaters have for the last Quidditch match...’

So, Ginny told him the details and while she knew he went and told Professor McGonagall, the match had not been cancelled. Perhaps the Order wanted it to go on so that they could be there to fight the Death Eaters. Ginny wasn’t certain.

Ever since Draco allowed Ginny to view some of his most precious memories, they had been closer than ever. There was an unspoken bond between them; they trusted one another and Ginny felt more comfortable with him than she ever had with anyone else before, including Harry. With Harry she found it easy to be herself, but she was always afraid he would find someone else, someone better. She felt as though she was going to lose him the entire time they were together. In the end, she was right. She allowed herself to go farther physically with him than she had with either Michael Corner or Dean Thomas. While they never had sex, they had done other things that would have caused Molly Weasley to send her daughter a dozen Howlers for sure.

But with Draco, Ginny felt at ease. He was gentler than she ever thought he would be. And she wasn’t uncomfortable when she finally let him remove her shirt and bra and see all of her from the waist up. She was small in general – short and thin – so her breasts were not large. Still, Draco didn’t seem to care and when he bent his head down to kiss them, it sent shivers down her spine and made her tingly in places that she’d never felt tingly before.

Knowing that Draco trusted her enough to share memories with her made her heart ache for him whenever he wasn’t around. It was beginning to ache like it had when she was in love with Harry. The thought blindsided her the evening right before the match, when she noticed she wasn’t feeling guilty for having just slipped a Fainting Fancy into Harry’s pudding when no one was watching. She was willing to hurt Harry to keep Draco safe. Because she loved him.

Perhaps love was too strong a word, but ‘fancy’ certainly wasn’t strong enough.

_I wonder if Draco feels the same?_

Harry fell over backwards and hit the floor. Everyone in the Great Hall turned to look at him; several people gasped. McGonagall shooed everyone away and Madam Pomfrey came running down from the staff table.

‘Oh, goodness me, what’s happened? _Ennervate_.’

Harry remained unconscious and when Ginny looked over at the Slytherin table, Nott looked most pleased.

XXXXXXX

Draco met Ginny in the classroom after dinner. She still had on her Hogwarts uniform, but her tie was gone and her shirt was untucked. 

‘Hi,’ she said.

‘Hi.’

‘Let’s get this over with.’

‘Can’t you do it to yourself?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No. I wouldn’t be able to say it. Just break my arm and get it over with.’

‘Who’s going to play Seeker?’

‘I don’t know. Gryffindor will probably have to forfeit, but I don’t care. I’d rather not be kidnapped. I’d rather lose the cup than be killed by Voldemort. Right scum, he is.’

Draco didn’t smile or nod. He didn’t want to break Ginny’s arm, but he couldn’t think of anything else to use to send her to the hospital. She explained it well to him. If she gave herself one of Fred and George’s snacks that would induce a fever or a puking fit, then she might cave in and give herself the antidote before enough time passed by where she wouldn’t be allowed to play in the match.

‘Fred and George’s fevers are high enough to cause delirium,’ she had said.

And Ginny certainly couldn’t take anything that might cause her to pass out – who would give her the antidote? No, Ginny said this was the best way for her to not be able to play in the match and Draco was slowly inclining to agree. He just didn’t want to be the one to have to do it to her.

‘All right,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Ready?’

Ginny took in a deep breath and nodded. ‘Ready.’

Draco took out his wand and pointed it at Ginny’s forearm. ‘ _Confringo osossis_ ,’ he said in a low voice. Several distinctive cracks sounded in the room, much like the cracks from his memory of his father breaking the little Muggle girl’s arm. Ginny began to cry softly.

 

‘Oh, shite,’ said Draco.

‘No, no, I wanted you to do it. I just didn’t realise – I think there’re several breaks.’

Draco looked at Ginny’s arm; it was beginning to swell already and looked bumpy, as though the bones not only broke, but moved as well. He felt sick.

‘I need – the hospital,’ gasped Ginny. ‘It hurts so badly.’

‘I can’t go with you,’ said Draco miserably. ‘If anyone saw—’

‘I know,’ said Ginny. ‘I can make it, I think.’ She smiled weakly, tears staining her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry I made you do this.’ With her good arm, she reached up and touched Draco’s cheek. She used it to bring his head down and kissed him quickly before rushing out the door. 

Ohhh, Draco wanted so badly to go and follow her, to make sure she made it to the hospital wing, but he knew he couldn’t. Instead, he wandered over to the library and went inside. Sure enough, Granger was there with her poncy boyfriend. Draco picked up a random book from one of the shelves and flipped through it as he made his way towards their table. 

‘What’s happened to your sister, Weasel?’ he said in a very bored tone as he passed by. ‘Someone finally give her what she deserves?’

Weasley stood up, knocking his chair back. ‘What are you talking about, Malfoy?’ he demanded.

Draco almost laughed. For all he was worth, Weasley was just not intimidating, even with his wand pointing in his, Draco’s, face. Granger, on the other hand... well, she knew how to use a wand well. She made Draco a little nervous.

‘Nothing. I just passed her running up to the hospital wing is all. Looked rather upset. I do hope no one’s _poisoned_ her or anything.’

When Draco dropped the word ‘poison’ Weasley turned very red and threw his ink bottle at Draco. Fortunately, Draco was able to duck and the glass bottle hit a shelf and burst.

‘ _Ron!_ ’ Granger cried. She quickly took out her wand and fixed the bottle and then Vanished the ink before Madam Pince came running over, screeching about making loud noises in the library.

Draco just walked away into a far corner of the library. He knew that Granger and Weasley would go to the hospital wing to check up on Ginny – if she wasn’t able to get there for some reason, they find her and get her there.

He still felt a bit guilty for breaking her arm, even the next day when he woke and went to breakfast. Neither she nor Potter was there, unsurprisingly, and it felt as though the Great Hall was empty even though it was only missing two people. Draco didn’t go to the match. He didn’t want to listen to Nott’s bitching once he realised that Ginny wasn’t going to be playing Seeker. He also didn’t want to witness any attacks on the school by Death Eaters. He was sure that none of them would get inside Hogwarts, but he didn’t want to have to fight for one side or the other this early in the game.

No one had returned to Slytherin House for several hours and by two-thirty Draco was getting antsy. He tried doing his Potions homework, but concentration eluded him. Deciding against better judgement that he _had_ to see Ginny, Draco got up from the leather sofa in the common room and went towards the hospital wing. He could always tell Madam Pomfrey he needed more Sleep Draught, which wasn’t much of a lie as he was going to be out very soon anyway.

He passed by the Great Hall on his way and heard someone talking – everyone must be back from the match and getting lunch. Whichever team won the Cup was probably getting a congratulatory speech by the Headmistress.

Draco continued on silently, lost in his thoughts until he came to the hospital wing. He opened the door and went inside. Whatever was going on in the Great Hall he must have been wrong about because Professor McGonagall was in the hospital wing with Flitwick and Slughorn.

‘What are you doing here, Mr Malfoy?’ asked McGonagall, looking especially severe.

‘I came to get some more Sleep Draught from Madam Pomfrey,’ he said, looking around the hospital. He saw Potter, still unconscious in one bed, but he didn’t see Ginny. Oh, God, where was Ginny? ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, his voice wavering.

‘Why aren’t you in the Great Hall with the other students?’

‘I didn’t know I needed to be.’

‘There was an announcement during the match.’

‘I wasn’t at the match. What’s going on?’ he asked again.

‘Oh, but don’t you know the answer to that already, Mr Malfoy?’ said McGonagall.

‘I promise I don’t.’

‘Death Eaters slipped into the school. They’ve killed Poppy and taken Ginny Weasley.’

Draco felt as though someone just stuck a rather large knife in his gut. Trying to keep his face straight, he said, ‘Oh. When?’

‘During the match. You should be in the Great Hall. Professors Sprout and Sinistra are giving everyone instructions on how to contact their parents,’ said McGonagall, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘Hogwarts is now officially closing for good.’ 

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

 


	8. Double Dose of Cherries

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Eight: Double Dose of Cherries**

XXXXXXX

Since his father was still a wanted criminal, Draco’s mother had to pick him up from school. Draco didn’t contact her, even though McGonagall told him he needed to. Instead, he simply left the hospital wing and went back down to the dungeons and to the common room under the lake. Students filled the common room and the noisy chatter filled Draco’s ears and banged around inside his head, giving him the most horrible headache.

He went up to the boys’ dormitory for some peace and quiet, but instead found Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini in there instead.

‘You’re such an idiot,’ cried Draco, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Nott. ‘Now we have to go home!’

Nott shrugged. ‘But the Dark Lord has to be pleased. He got the Weasley girl.’

‘Fine, he’ll be pleased about that, but the rest of your mission? The school is closed and now you won’t be able to kill—’

‘Oh, that mission wasn’t as important as the one with the girl. Now get your wand out of my face.’

Draco lowered his wand but still kept a hold of it. ‘What does he want with her? Is he trying to lure Potter to him?’

Nott shrugged.

‘It makes sense,’ said Draco, more to himself than Nott. ‘The Dark Lord must know by now that the two of them used to date. She’s got to be more precious to him than the Weasel or Mudblood. Where did he take her, though?’

‘Why are you so interested?’ asked Blaise, who was by his trunk, getting it packed.

‘Because when it comes time for the Dark Lord to fight Potter I want to be there. I want to watch him die.’

Nott’s mouth bowed upwards in what was probably supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace. He took out his wand and pointed it at his trunk; the lid flew open.

‘ _Pack_ ,’ said Nott and Draco watched as all of Nott’s clothes and belongings flew into his trunk. The laces of his shoes tied and his socks rolled themselves up and landed neatly on top of everything else in the trunk.

‘When are you leaving?’ asked Draco.

‘Tonight. My mum’s coming to get me at midnight.’ 

‘What about you,’ Blaise asked, looking at Draco.

‘I don’t know. I haven’t talked to my mum. I don’t really fancy going home, to tell you the truth.’

‘Neither do I,’ said Blaise. ‘My mum got married over Christmas break and he’s a bit of an arse.’

‘Bet he’s rich though,’ said Nott with a laugh. ‘Your mum’s a—’

‘I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I was you,’ said Blaise, pointing his wand right at Nott’s throat. ‘I know a good severing charm that would slice through your skin like butter.’

‘Butter, eh?’ Nott leaned in closer to Blaise. ‘Like I care.’

Draco didn’t feel like listening to Nott and Blaise argue so he turned to his own bed and opened his trunk. He packed it by hand; he knew that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate hard enough to cast a good Packing spell. It only took him fifteen minutes to get everything folded and packed. He had to shrink some of his books to get them to fit, but he was able to close and lock his trunk.

Looking at his four-poster bed, Draco had an odd feeling. It wasn’t one of those sad, I’ll-never-see-this-dormitory-again feeling that the girls were probably having, but it was an odd feeling nevertheless. 

The other boys in the dormitory left and Draco was alone. He lay down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. After a while he grew bored and began to draw images with his wand on the walls and ceiling.

‘What are you doing?’

Draco bolted up and looked at the doorway of his room. His mother stood there, wearing a long skirt, boots, and a travelling cloak. Her hair was down and hung about her waist in thick, silver locks. She looked tired, but beautiful.

‘Mother,’ said Draco.

‘I was having dinner with Celia when Blaise contacted her.’

‘Celia Zabini?’

‘Well, it’s no longer Zabini, is it? It’s Celia McAdams now.’

‘Oh.’

‘I thought you might ignore the entire situation instead of contacting me so I thought I should come and get you. Do you have your things ready?’

Draco nodded.

‘We’re going home.’

‘ _Home_?’

‘Where else do you think we would go?’

‘To Aunt Bella’s.’

Narcissa shook her head. ‘No, we’re not going to my sister’s. We have to go home.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t you want to go home?’

‘Not particularly. I’d rather stay here.’

Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. ‘Here? At Hogwarts? What in the name of Salazar for?’

Draco shrugged. ‘What’s at home for me? Nothing. They’re going to make me do another initiation, Mother. If I don’t pass they’re surely going to kill us.’

‘I know,’ said Narcissa, nodding. ‘I was ordered long ago to ensure that you come home after the term was over. The time has come sooner than I thought, but it’s time nevertheless.’

‘You know?’ Draco swallowed hard. ‘Do you know what they want me to do?’

‘No,’ said Narcissa, but Draco was sure his mother was lying. 

‘Goyle said he had to use the Imperius Curse on someone and make them kidnap a Muggle. Is it something like that?’

Narcissa shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything about it,’ she said firmly. ‘Now, get your things and let’s go.’

XXXXXXX

Draco paced back and forth in the drawing room, occasionally stopping to look out the window to the garden and the trees to the side of Malfoy Mansion. Bitty was out there, wearing what appeared to be several doilies patched together in a crude-looking dress, chasing garden gnomes about and sometimes catching them with a levitation spell and sending them flying into the trees. 

It probably would have served him well to clear his mind of all thoughts in case someone unexpectedly tried to use Legilimency on him, but he couldn’t help but think of all the things he might have to do for an initiation. He mucked it all up last time by allowing Snape to kill Dumbledore. In between wild thoughts of what he would have to do for initiation, he thought of Ginny – where was she? Had she been hurt? Unfortunately, Draco had seen the horrors of what the Death Eaters did to their victims firsthand. It was a memory he hadn’t shown Ginny, a memory that he had kept suppressed for the past five years. His father never found out that Draco had watched him and two other Death Eaters rape, torture, and kill a woman in front of her daughter and husband. The girl had, according to Lucius, been too young to torture and rape, so he simply used _Avada Kedavra_. Draco didn’t know what had happened to the husband; once the little girl was limp and unmoving, he ran away from the doorway to his father’s study and up the stairs to his bedroom. 

Watching someone being raped – brutally and viciously – gave Draco nightmares every single night. His mother worried about him because that entire summer he walked around the house in an insomniac daze, silent and confused. She went as far as to write to Severus Snape about making a sleeping potion for her son. When Draco found out, he refused to take it, but after a few more weeks of insomnia and nightmares, he broke down and took it. Now he was addicted and couldn’t sleep without it. Perhaps if he was particularly worn-out and exhausted he could sleep, but that only happened once every four or five months. It seemed silly that something so commonplace in the Death Eater world should shake him up so, but Draco was traumatised by it. The torture and rape of an innocent woman – watching the same father who raised a hand to his mother do that to a stranger.

Draco shook his head. He needed to clear his head. He needed to think of nothing and remain calm.

_Ginny ..._

He hated himself for being so worried about a Weasley – the baby Weasel. She first kissed him in December – four, almost five months ago. Now, here he was, not having done the things he had done with Daphne and yet feeling tenfold the emotions. Ginny was able to evoke everything he’d tried so hard to suppress, all the emotions that he thought made people weak. While he would never say he felt _happy_ , he certainly hadn’t felt sad or upset since they’d taking up snogging. Until now, anyway.

‘Draco, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.’

Draco whirled around and looked at his father. They were the same height with the same white-blonde hair.

‘Your mother said she had a difficult time bringing you home. What’s wrong with Malfoy Mansion?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Son, you are a terrible liar.’

Draco felt his father try to enter his head, but Draco pushed him out before he could shuffle through any of his memories. 

‘You’ve been practising,’ said Lucius.

Draco nodded. ‘Yes, I have.’

‘What are you hiding from me?’

‘I’ve got nothing to hide,’ said Draco, standing up straighter. ‘I don’t want _anyone_ in my head, period.’

Lucius Malfoy looked his son up and down, eyes narrow and calculating. When his eyes looked back into Draco’s, he said, ‘Are you ready for the Dark Lord?’

Draco swallowed hard. ‘Yes, I think so.’

‘You _think_ so. Son, this is very serious. If you are not strong enough to handle this, then perhaps—’

‘I’m strong enough,’ said Draco. ‘I can do whatever it is the Dark Lord wants me to do.’

‘You weren’t strong enough last year, were you? You had to get your Potions Master to do _your_ job.’

‘That was different! No one gave me enough chance—’

‘You are lucky that the Dark Lord favours Severus and believes him completely no matter what. I’ve told the Dark Lord of my reservations. I am not sure you are up to the task which he is going to set before you.’

‘I can do it,’ said Draco firmly.

‘Can you? This task might be a difficult one for _some_. Others will do it out of the sake of duty and loyalty to the Dark Lord. If you pass the test, you will be rewarded greatly. Not only will you be an official Death Eater, but you’ll be given a gift.’

‘A gift? What kind of gift?’ Draco wasn’t sure that a _gift_ from the Dark Lord would be a good thing.

‘Well, a temporary gift.’

A temporary gift sounded even worse. 

‘The Dark Lord is ready for you, when you’re ready.’

Draco blinked. Wait ... what? _Now? Here?_ ‘Where is he?’

‘No, he’s at a house in Helga’s Landing. We will Apparate there. You have your license now.’

‘Yes, but I’ve never been to Helga’s Landing.’

‘Ah, well, we can do Side-Along Apparation if we must. You can Apparate back home on your own, I trust?’

Draco nodded. 

‘Let’s go, shall we?’

Draco followed his father outside to the back garden. Their house, much like Hogwarts, had wards and spells of protection that disallowed anyone from Apparating or Disapparating within the walls. It proved useful when Draco was younger; he could lock the door to his room and no one would be able to get inside it. Lucius had done it to keep the Ministry out of his affairs and his enemies as far away from his home as he could get them.

Taking hold of his father’s arm, Draco felt as though he was being pushed through a rather small hole. He almost fell over when they landed in front of a large, rundown house in the middle of the countryside. Everything looked dead around the house – the grass, the trees, the bushes. Lucius Malfoy straightened his black robes, pulling his hood up over his head. He went up to the door, tapped his wand against it three times, and put his wand back into his pocket. 

Slowly the door opened and Draco felt something like impending doom loom over his head. He took in a deep breath and walked inside the house after his father. Inside, the house looked old. It had a funny smell so Draco opened his mouth to breathe. The furniture, had there ever been any, was gone and only a few, vacant portraits hung on the walls. Draco followed his father through several rooms until they reached one near the back of the house. It must have been the living room or a drawing room of some sort. Several Death Eaters stood in a semi-circle around a large, stone fireplace. In front of the hearth stood a ghastly figure – skin as white as bone, eyes the colour of freshly drawn blood, and a vacant nose with two slits for nostrils. A hand with long, skeletal-like fingers beckoned Draco forward. Lucius found a space within the semi-circle as Draco slid between two hooded wizards and stopped in front of the Dark Lord.

‘Young Malfoy, I haven’t seen you in a very long time.’

‘No, sir,’ replied Draco.

‘Your father doesn’t seem to think you are ready to be a member of my loyal followers. What do you think?’

‘I think I am ready, sir.’

‘Are you willing to fulfil my task?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘You won’t allow anyone to do the task for you? Like last time?’

‘I – no, sir. I won’t let anyone help me. I’ll do it myself.’

‘Hold out your arm.’

Draco pushed back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the Dark Mark. The Dark Lord touched the tattooed mark and immediately Draco felt a burning hot pain in his arm. It was pain like he had never felt before, pain that made it impossible to think and blurred his vision beyond recognition. It took all of Draco’s willpower not to scream out in pain or cry. When the Dark Lord lifted his hand, Draco clutched his arm, breathing heavily. Looking down, Draco saw that the Dark Mark was no longer black but a bright red, like blood. He was scared to touch it, scared that the red colour was actually blood, _his_ blood, so he let his arm swing by his side limply. 

‘Now, Draco, are you ready for your task?’

Draco nodded and said, ‘Yes, sir,’ as he stood up straight and awaited his instructions.

XXXXXXX

The thing that ticked Ginny off the most was that they broke her wand – but not only did they break it, they smashed it beyond recognition. If she was to escape, she’d have to do it without magic ... which was impossible. The plan seemed easy enough. Madam Pomfrey would be in the hospital wing with her and the Death Eaters wouldn’t possibly go _inside_ Hogwarts, so Ginny would be perfectly safe, right?

Wrong.

Oh, so completely wrong. Ginny got the no Death Eaters inside Hogwarts part correct, but she forgot about the Death Eaters who were _students_. It was wholly unexpected when Nott, Crabbe, and a fifth-year Ravenclaw came bouncing into the hospital wing and sent the _Avada Kedavra_ curse right at Madam Pomfrey. The room glowed green for a mere moment before the old Healer lay on the floor near her office and in front of a shelf of healing potions. 

Then, the three students immobilised Ginny and dragged her to the Astronomy Tower. Everyone was still at the match and Harry was still unconscious. Luckily, Fred and George did add a special ingredient that allowed whoever took the Fainting Fancy to wake up after four days without taking the antidote, so Harry would awaken soon enough, but he was useless nevertheless. Ginny couldn’t even struggle; she could only watch, horrified, as Nott handed her over to a Death Eater hovering above the school on a broomstick.

‘Here she is,’ said Nott. ‘I’ve completed _my_ part of the mission. Will you tell the Dark Lord?’

The Death Eater – Ginny never got a good look at his face, for he kept his head hidden behind a hooded cloak – nodded. ‘Yes, of course. She _is_ a pretty girl, isn’t she?’

Ginny wanted to shudder as an ice-cold hand caressed her cheek and pushed her hair off of her forehead.

‘Master will be so pleased.’ The Death Eater made to take off and leave, but Nott stopped him.

‘Wait—’

And as though a veil was pulled over her eyes, Ginny saw black and passed out. The next time she woke she was in a large room – a bedroom. On the bedside table was her wand, in pieces, and when she tried to reach for it, she couldn’t. She was no longer immobilised, but she was bound by magical ropes around her wrists.

She soon realised that struggling against the ropes was useless and cried out, ‘ _Shite_!’ 

The room was so large and she felt so small and useless in it. The walls had portraits, but they were all vacant. The bedside table had a silver lamp with a dark green shade; it was the only light in the entire room. On the adjacent wall was a heavy-looking chest of drawers. There was a single picture frame on top of it with the picture of a woman with long hair, but it was too dark to see who she was. There was a sizeable wardrobe on the wall opposite the chest of drawers. Carved into the wooden doors was a crest; Ginny thought it might be from one of the Hogwarts houses, but she couldn’t tell which one. Her eyes travelled to the other side of the bed and she jumped in surprise and almost fell off the bed.

‘Didn’t mean to scare you,’ drawled a slow, deep voice.

Ginny swallowed and willed her heart to calm down. ‘Snape,’ she said.

Next to the bed, sitting in a chair with green cushions and black wooden legs, was the familiar greasy face of Severus Snape. His hair was much longer and hung behind his ears in thin, tangled ropes. The old hooked-nose was shiny with several small bumps near the tips. Ginny felt nothing but disdain when she looked at him. She wanted to get her wand and do to him what he did to Dumbledore. The realisation of how much she hated him hit her hard in the gut.

‘Are you going to kill me?’

Snape shook his head. ‘That’s not my job,’ he said.

‘Am I bait?’

Snape arched an eyebrow, as if to tell Ginny to elaborate. 

‘Does Voldemort—’

‘ _Don’t_ speak his name.’

‘—does _Voldemort_ want to use me to lure Harry here?’

Snape smiled, baring yellow, broken teeth, but didn’t answer. Ginny took his silence to mean that she _was_ bait and her heart began to pound even more fiercely. Then, she saw a bit of silver lining; if she was going to be used to lure Harry, that meant they had to keep her alive long enough for Harry to see her. She wouldn’t be killed – yet.

‘Can you tell me where I am?’

‘You never did know when to shut up,’ said Snape, getting up from his chair and walking over to the chest of drawers. He picked up the picture frame and looked at it. ‘Typical,’ he said, tossing the frame back on top of the chest, not worrying that it fell over. ‘Only picture in the entire room is of his _mother_.’

Ginny was sure Snape was talking to himself. She watched him pace through the room, looking at the vacant portraits and tapping his wand against his thigh. Figuring he must be here to guard her, Ginny felt uneasy; Dumbledore’s killer was a few metres away from her. He looked very thin, though, and had very large bags underneath his eyes as though he hadn’t slept in ages. His wan skin looked whiter than she remembered, but it had been almost eleven months since she last saw him. 

She wanted to cry. She didn’t want to be bait for Harry. She wanted to be home, at The Burrow, with her brothers, Hermione, and Harry. 

_Harry_.

It pained her to think of him. Of course the Dark Lord would use _her_ as bait. Harry loved her. He loved her differently than he loved Ron and Hermione. He told her once that it could be used against them – that his affection for her could cause her harm. She told him he was being noble, that the idea was ridiculous.

_Oh, if he could see me now_.

Suddenly, Snape’s wand was out and pointed at the door to the room. It was opening slowly and a man dressed in black hooded robes walked in. 

‘It’s time, Snape.’

The voice sounded very familiar.

‘You’re relieved of your duties until tomorrow. The Dark Lord thanks you for watching her.’

Snape nodded his head and left the room.

That voice ... that voice was so very, very familiar. Then, it hit her. The voice belonged to _Lucius Malfoy_. She swallowed hard. Was she in the bedroom of Lucius? What was he going to _do_ to her? Ginny felt her pulse quicken yet again. Fear pumped through her veins.

‘Are you ready?’

At first, Ginny though Lucius was talking to _her_ , but then she watched as someone else walked into the room. A tall, thin, pointed-faced someone else. She almost cried out in relief. It was Draco. _Her_ Draco! He wouldn’t hurt her, would he? No, she would be safe for the time being if he was around; she was sure of it. 

‘Yes, father, I’m ready.’

 

‘Good. I’ll be back in twenty-four hours to inspect that everything’s been done to the Dark Lord’s liking.’

With that, Lucius left the room, shutting the door behind him with a rather loud _bang_.

Draco hadn’t looked at her yet. His eyes had been glued to the floor the entire time he was in the room. When they rose, the look on his face was of pure shock.

‘Ginny,’ he said in a very low voice. He looked relieved for a second, but then a look of panic crossed his face. ‘Ginny,’ he said again, ‘oh, fuck.’

XXXXXXX

When Draco raised his eyes, he hadn’t expected to see Ginny sitting on his bed, her arms behind her back, looking dishevelled and upset. He should have guessed, though. After all, she had been taken right out of Hogwarts and the Dark Lord had given him instructions.

_‘There will be a girl waiting for you. Take her, use her, break her. Come morning I do not wish for her to be whole any longer. I want you to take her innocence – she’s your whore for the night, but do not let her do it willingly. Tie her up, hit her, torture her. Her sanity should be hanging on by a thread once the sun comes up again.’_

Draco looked at his watch. It was only a quarter past ten. It seemed odd that only a few hours before his mother had come to fetch him from his dormitory in Slytherin House. He had twenty-four hours to come up with an alternate plan. Taking his wand out of his pocket, he Imperturbed the room just in case anyone might be listening in. Now he just had to figure out what to do because he certainly couldn’t go through with the Dark Lord’s request.

_‘Do you understand what that means, Draco?’_

Yes, Draco understood all right. The Dark Lord wanted him to do to Ginny what he saw his father do to that family so many years ago. He wanted her raped and tortured. Beaten. But not killed. He wanted proof that she was practically insane. And Lucius Malfoy was going to _inspect_ that the job was done come next morning.

‘Are you on watch of me, now?’

‘What?’

‘Snape was watching me before, yeah?’

Draco nodded slowly.

‘Is it your turn?’

‘Oh, Ginny,’ said Draco, shaking his head. ‘No, no, you’re my initiation.’

‘ _What_?’

Draco rubbed his eyes and went over to the chair next to his bed and sat down. His room was just as he left it – bare and cold. The portraits on his walls had all left to go visit other paintings in the house and hadn’t been back in several years. The duvet on his bed was green, the Slytherin crest was carved into his wardrobe, and the only picture in the room was a photograph of his mother.

‘Hogwarts is closed,’ he said. ‘Once McGonagall realised you were taken and that Madam Pomfrey was killed, she sent everyone home. My mother came to get me. She brought me home and my father and I Apparated to a place called Helga’s Landing. The Dark Lord was there and he gave me my assignment. I’m to break you.’

‘You’re to what me?’

‘Break you. Divest you of your innocence. He wants me to torture you – leave you hanging by the last thread of sanity.’

Ginny’s mouth hung open in shock. ‘I thought I was here to be bait for Harry – to lure him here.’

Draco shook his head. ‘No. You’re supposed to be mine. If I do a good job, I get to keep you ... as a gift.’

‘A gift?’

‘Yes. You’re mine until the Dark Lord wants to dispose of you. I can do whatever I want with you.’

‘I can fake it,’ said Ginny suddenly.

‘What are you on about?’

‘Tomorrow, when they come to inspect. I can pretend to be broken and practically insane. I can drool on myself and cry.’

‘You don’t understand,’ said Draco.

‘I don’t understand what?’ When Draco didn’t answer, she said, ‘What don’t I understand? Draco! Tell me!’

 

Draco thought about the words his father said as they walked back into Malfoy Mansion:

_‘I will know if it hasn’t been done. There are telltale signs. Fluids. Blood. Bruising. If you can do this, Draco, you’ll quickly move up into the ranks of the Dark Lord’s followers. He can make you powerful. Do not embarrass me, Draco. I will not stand for it.’_

_‘Yes, sir.’_

_‘Don’t make me finish_ your _job for you. It happened once before, but I will not allow Snape to make the same mistake twice. Do you understand?’_

_‘Yes, I understand.’_

_‘Can you do it?’_

_Draco nodded. ‘I can.’_

_‘The girl is no better than the mud on the bottom of your shoes. Treat her no better than you would treat your house-elf. I want to see that it has all been done—’_

_‘Yes, I know – done to the Dark Lord’s liking.’_

_‘He shows no mercy to people like her,’ said Lucius, stopping at the back entrance to the mansion. ‘There is no reason why you should either. I have other business to attend to, Draco. Twenty-four hours and I’ll be back_ _and if the job is not done right, I will do it myself.’_

After that Draco followed his father up the stairs and into his bedroom. He looked over at Ginny. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in confusion and worry. 

‘My father’s going to come back in twenty-four hours,’ he said, ‘to make sure that my initiation is complete.’

‘Are you supposed to kill me?’ asked Ginny, looking down at her lap.

‘No.’

‘Then it can’t be that bad, can it?’ she asked, raising her head. 

‘Worse. I’m supposed to rape and torture you. You can fake the tortured insanity bit, but not the rape, Ginny.’

‘You’re supposed to rape me?’

‘Yes.’

‘How will they know?’

‘My father said there will be telltale signs.’ Draco couldn’t look at her as he said the next bit. ‘Blood ... semen ... stuff like that.’

‘Oh.’ Ginny moved to the edge of the bed. ‘Draco, can you undo the invisible ropes?’

Draco turned to her. ‘Oh, yeah, sure.’ He raised his wand and undid the ropes. She rubbed her wrists and let her hair out of its ponytail. 

‘D’you mind? I’m a bit dirty ...’

Draco blinked at her a few times before raising his wand again and muttering _Scourgify_ at her. Her skin looked lighter and her hair softer. He couldn’t stand to look at her, knowing what the Dark Lord wanted him to do. The thoughts of what he was supposed to do made him sick. He knew he didn’t have it in him to rape and torture anyone – and especially not the baby Weasel. 

‘What are we going to do?’ asked Ginny. ‘I mean, you can’t _torture_ me.’

Draco didn’t respond; he simply kept looking at her.

‘D’you know a good numbing charm?’

‘Wha—? No, I don’t.’

‘Well, I think I know one. You could cast it and then you could do small cutting curses on me ... make it look as though you actually did torture me without having to do it. If I’m numbed, I can’t feel anything.’

Draco rubbed his eyes again.

‘I’d cast the charm myself, but my wand was broken.’ 

Draco looked up and over to where Ginny pointed; a smashed up wand was on his bedside table. He winced. It was most likely a second-hand wand, but it was still _her_ wand and now it looked like bits of mulch. 

‘That might be all right,’ he said in a very low voice. ‘It could work.’

Ginny tried to smile, but it only looked tragic. Suddenly, she began to cry.

‘Oh – oh, don’t do that.’ Draco stood up quickly, unsure of what to do; comforting crying girls was not his specialty. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘What do you mean _what’s wrong_?’ blubbered Ginny. ‘You’re supposed to _rape_ me! And _torture_ me! And – and – and I’m _trying_ to figure out how to get us out of this mess without b-b-being killed. I thought I was here as bait. I thought I was going to be safe for a few _days_! I didn’t know that – that I was going to be—’

‘Ginny!’ cried Draco, kneeling on the floor in front of Ginny. He took her hands and held them. ‘Shut up. Just calm down and shut up.’

She looked as though she was going to hit him or yell, but instead she deflated and nodded, visibly swallowing.

‘Let’s take this step by step,’ said Draco, releasing Ginny’s hands and standing up. ‘Are you _sure_ you want me to ...’

‘What will happen if you _don’t_ torture and rape me?’

‘Then my father will do it for me,’ said Draco. ‘And I’ll most likely be killed.’

Fresh tears fell from Ginny’s eyes and she nodded. ‘Right. Okay.’

‘I’ve seen him do it before,’ said Draco suddenly. He hadn’t meant to admit that to her, but now that he said it, he couldn’t take it back. ‘A few years ago – he didn’t know that I was watching. It was a Muggle family, I think, with a small daughter. He didn’t touch her, but he made the girl watch as he raped her mother.’

Ginny’s eyes grew large and she wiped tears off her cheeks. 

‘It was brutal. She was crying in pain ... she bled ... he hit her over and over – Ginny, I’m not going to let him do that to you. I don’t see how we could escape. In fact, I don’t think we could. I’m pretty sure my father will have locked us in this room to ensure that I’ve done what the Dark Lord asked me to do.’

‘You can’t undo the spell?’

Draco shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Not when I don’t know what kind of spell it was.’

‘I want you to do the cutting spells on me later,’ said Ginny firmly, ‘so that they’ll all think I was tortured. Even if you can’t do a good numbing spell, I want you to do it. I can take the pain. I’ve felt worse. And I want to ...’

‘Want to what?’

‘I think we should have sex,’ said Ginny.

Draco prided himself on being so good at never showing emotion on his face, but he could hardly keep the shock from showing. 

‘Why?’

‘We can’t fake a rape,’ said Ginny. ‘And besides, if you’re supposed to _divest_ me of my _innocence_ then there will be ...’ Ginny turned a bright red that expanded across her face from one ear to the other. ‘Well – there will be blood and stuff and you can’t really fake what that would look like – afterwards – oh my God, I cannot _believe_ I’m saying this. This is a disgusting conversation.’

‘You’re a virgin?’ said Draco.

‘Yes. Why, did you think I wasn’t?’

Draco shrugged. ‘I never gave it much thought.’ Oh, he was lying through his teeth. He felt relief that she was a virgin. ‘You said you were in love with Potter. I thought you might have with him.’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No. And I said I _was_ in love with Potter. I’m not anymore.’

‘Why not?’

‘He pushed me away. Ron and Hermione didn’t hide away from their feelings even though they both are in the midst of a war. If Harry had truly wanted me, he would have kept me.’

‘He wanted to protect you,’ said Draco observantly.

‘I was already friends with him and his best mate is my brother. I was at risk before we ever dated. Are you a virgin?’

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

‘I – yes.’

Ginny looked genuinely surprised. ‘Not with Daphne?’

‘No.’

‘I thought you said you two were fuck-mates.’

‘We did everything but.’

‘Ohh.’ Ginny nodded. ‘As did me and Harry. Everything but.’

‘Everything?’

‘Yes. Everything.’

Draco wasn’t sure what he thought about that either. At least Potter hadn’t had her, though. He was grateful for that. She loved Potter once but she never had sex with him. The fact that Draco hated Potter was known to everyone and it made him feel great that he could have something that Potter didn’t – Ginny. 

‘Do you know what you’re saying?’ asked Draco. ‘This isn’t some fairy tale, romantic, love-making experience. This is nothing like that.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m not some gentle, brilliant lover. This wouldn’t be a promise for the future. Just because we sleep together doesn’t mean we will for the rest of our lives.’

Ginny looked surprised for a split moment before nodding and whispering, ‘I know.’

‘Don’t start thinking that this means I love you or anything. Because that’s not what this is.’

‘Draco, d’you think you’re capable _of_ loving anyone?’

‘I don’t know.’ What a shite question. It caught him off guard. Love was one of those emotions that he suppressed deep down inside; one of those emotions he thought made people weak; one of those emotions he didn’t want to feel. Could he love someone? Probably. Could he _admit_ that he loved someone? Absolutely not. He had to make sure Ginny understood this. He had to make sure she wasn’t going to _expect_ things from him. 

She wanted to have sex with him. 

The statement was still repeating inside his head. He could hardly believe it. Sure, he’d touched her in those secret places that boys dream about in their pervy dreams, but he’d hardly thought their relationship had progressed to that level. It only made sense that they slept together, though. His father could surely see the signs that sex had occurred. Who was he to try and figure out whether those signs taken place during an act of consent?

Was Ginny actually ready for sex?

No, that was the wrong question and Draco knew it. Fact was, _he_ wasn’t ready for it. That would be revealing parts of himself – emotional parts, intimate parts – that no one else had ever seen. He wasn’t worried about whether he’d be a good lover or not, but rather that he’d feel exposed, mentally, emotionally exposed. The act of sex _could_ be a purely physical thing, of course, but Draco wasn’t sure that’s how he would be able to take it. Separating himself from his physical body wasn’t easy for him. And to be so close to someone, right there, _inside_ someone ... well, Draco wasn’t sure he could do it. He might implode. No one could suppress all the emotions that he did without them one day exploding all over the place. This was one of the times Draco could see himself losing control.

‘Are you sure you’re ready for that? Aren’t girls supposed to obsess over the first time? This is not the ideal situation.’

‘No, but it makes sense,’ said Ginny. ‘I want to keep you alive. And quite honestly, I don’t want your father doing anything to me.’

‘I would never allow it,’ said Draco firmly.

‘He’s more powerful than you are. You wouldn’t have a choice.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ said Draco.

Ginny crossed the room to where he was standing and wrapped her arms around his waist, burrowing her head into his chest. 

‘Draco,’ she said, ‘I’ve only been in love once, but given a bit of time, it could be twice.’

His heart stopped mid-beat. As long as he’d been with Daphne, she’d never said anything like that. And Pansy? Pansy was a worthless bint, but she never even told him she fancied him. No one had ever said anything remotely like this. Even his mother, as much as he knew she loved him, had only ever told him this twice. Hearing it from someone he wanted to hear it from was shocking. 

And bizarrely intoxicating. 

‘I don’t know as if you’ll ever say it back to me, but that’s all right. I can tell. One day you’ll feel the same.’

Draco didn’t say anything, but instead reached his hands down and gripped her backside, bringing her closer to him. Ginny pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Her eyes looked just like milk chocolate and the light from the candle-lit chandelier danced in them. 

‘Your eyes look almost blue now,’ she said. 

‘Not so lifeless?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No, not so lifeless. Do mine still look like chocolate?’

Draco sniggered. ‘I was just thinking that they do,’ he answered honestly. ‘Listen, Ginny—’

‘Shh,’ said Ginny, pressing a finger over his lips to silence him. ‘I don’t expect promises or pretty words from you. Let’s do this, all right? It’ll save both our lives – for the time being. Afterwards we can work on “torturing” me. Then we’ll figure out a way to contact the Order, let them know what’s going on.’

Draco nodded. ‘Okay.’

Ginny stepped back from him. ‘You look unsure.’

He was. Oh, he definitely was. But the thought of having sex with the girl in front of him made his body stir and awaken. As much as he was unsure, he wanted to have sex more. There – his brain had decided. The threat of releasing those hidden emotions, of being so close to someone, he’d risk it, he’d risk it all for her.

Then Ginny did something that made him almost smile. She reached down to the bottom of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head and let it drop to the floor. Her hands were already working on the front-clasp of her bra and she slipped it off her shoulders. As her fingers hooked themselves on the elastic of her pyjama bottoms, Draco stopped her.

‘No, don’t,’ he said. 

He didn’t miss the confused look Ginny gave him as he stepped over to her and dropped to his knees. He pulled her pyjama bottoms and knickers down and helped her step out of them. His lips placed a long, soft kiss against her stomach and he felt her fingers weave through his hair. And as he kissed her lower, they both were lost.

XXXXXXX

Ginny woke up later that afternoon completely sore and sticky. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she found that her forehead was still damp with sweat. She smiled to herself. Funny, that. Something as beautiful as making love could leave you so ... gross. A shower, she needed a shower.

She turned over, expecting to find Draco in the bed next to her, but he wasn’t there. Sitting up, she saw him sitting on the floor, crossed-legged, and reading a book. He must have combed through his hair because he looked very put-together, not a hair out of place. His chest and back were bare and Ginny could see the faint red lines on his flesh from where she had clawed him by accident. Not that he seemed to even notice. He had on pants, though – black pyjama bottoms that rested around his hips and revealed his naval. Ginny smiled to herself.

‘What’re you reading?’

If she startled Draco, he gave no indication, but simply looked up at her with large, blue-grey eyes. No, there was definitely life in his eyes once again.

‘I’m looking for a numbing spell. I haven’t found anything in here that isn’t permanent. I can’t leave the room – I already tried – or I would go look through my father’s library for another book. I don’t have many in here.’

Looking at his face, his pointed features and strong jaw, made Ginny smile. When she suggested they have sex, she said it before she gave it a lot of thought. But it seemed to be the simplest solution. Now all they had to do was make sure the sheets stayed the way they were – as disgusting as that thought truly was – for when Lucius came to inspect tomorrow morning.

There were no regrets. Ginny had been honest with Draco. She wasn’t in love with him, but she very well could be, and soon. Part of her always figured she’d lose her virginity to Harry, but this was good, too. She knew she hadn’t been completely ready, but when would she ever be? 

Draco hadn’t been as gentle as he could have, thought Ginny. He wasn’t rough, but he didn’t seem to acknowledge that first-times were painful for girls. The pain – it felt as though someone was stabbing her from the inside – subsided after a few minutes. It didn’t completely vanish, but it did lessen. Then, once it was over, they were both breathless and simply held on to one another for several minutes before either of them spoke.

It started a few minutes after that, as Ginny kissed Draco’s neck and ran her hands all over his body. This second time Ginny’s body was ready for it and it was easy and the pain seemed to be mostly gone and she found that it was enjoyable. 

Then, she fell asleep. She wasn’t so sure that Draco slept. She was out before he was and now he was reading a book.

‘Did you sleep?’

Draco nodded. ‘For about an hour.’ He looked back down at his book and turned the page. 

‘Can I take a shower?’

Draco eyes snapped up to hers. She blushed at the thoughts she was sure were going through his head. 

‘Bathroom’s in there,’ he said.

She felt his eyes on her, burning her, as she stood up from the bed, not bothering putting on any clothes, and walked over to the bathroom. It was large and all the fixtures were shiny and silver. She started the water in the tub after she pushed back the black shower curtain. When it warmed up to her liking, she stepped underneath the spray and let it wash over her body. Showers always felt much, much better than any Scourifying spell. 

Suddenly, the shower curtain was pushed back again and Draco joined her. He must have shed his pyjama bottoms before getting in; he was completely starkers. She smiled. 

‘Couldn’t resist?’

‘No.’ He reached for her and kissed her. She was smiling brightly when he released her. 

‘You look almost happy.’

‘Mm,’ hummed Draco. ‘And you look good enough to eat.’

Ginny laughed as Draco reached for her again. 

It was okay to laugh because Ginny knew that in a few hours time they’d be working on making her look like one of the Death Eaters’ torture victims and thinking of a way to get them both out of Malfoy Mansion before the Dark Lord ordered her death. 

It was okay to laugh because tomorrow anything could happen – the final battle could begin or Lucius might not be satisfied with Draco’s work and do it himself.

It was okay to laugh because sometimes in the midst of war and death and sorrow, small rays of light can be seen, and to ignore that light is a tragic thing. In the darkest times it’s good to hold on to the light ... for who knows when that light will be seen again ...

And it was okay to laugh because tomorrow morning was still several hours away.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued ...

XXXXXXX

 


	9. Orphaned

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Nine: Orphaned**

XXXXXXX

‘Hold still.’

‘I’m _sorry_ , it hurts!’

‘You said you could handle it.’

‘I _can_ – I just—’

 

Draco watched as Ginny furiously wiped away the tears from her face. She looked down at her arm where several gashes were bleeding onto the sheets of Draco’s bed. The more frustrated Draco felt, the thicker the gashes were. 

‘You’re going to scar me!’

‘Will you shut up?’ snapped Draco. ‘What else would you have me do?’

Ginny shook her head, the tears falling from her eyes.

‘You said you could handle the pain.’

‘I lied,’ she whispered, licking her lips and sniffling. 

Draco counted the marks. Just her arms. Would that be sufficient? He put down his wand and went into his bathroom. On a shelf above the toilet was a stack of neatly folded towels. Draco took one and wetted it in the sink with cold water. Returning to Ginny he pressed the towel to her arms, hoping it would stop the bleeding. Healing charms were a loss to him; even if he did know of one, they would seal the wounds and that would defeat the entire purpose of cutting Ginny in the first place.

Looking at her arms, Draco realised it wasn’t enough. There needed to be more. Ginny looked as though she got caught in some thorny rosebushes. 

‘I—’ Draco pressed his lips together. Saying the word ‘sorry’ was simply not possible ... even though he _was_. His stomach was turning over inside his abdomen. He wasn’t sure what it felt like, but he didn’t like it, whatever it was. ‘This isn’t good enough. You looked too put-together. I need ... I need to do more, Gin.’

Ginny nodded. ‘All right,’ she whispered. ‘Like what?’

‘More of the same,’ said Draco, lifting her shirt and pressing his wand to her skin and watching as it opened and parted, blooding dripping out of the cuts. ‘I don’t know a spell to give you bruises,’ he said. ‘I can’t hit you.’

‘That’s all right,’ said Ginny through clenched teeth. ‘I don’t think I can stand any more of this anyway.’

Draco tapped Ginny’s head. Her hands flew up to her hair, a confused look on her face.

‘What’d you do?’

‘You know the spell that softens hair? I said it backwards. Makes it look as though you just woke up. Don’t look at me like that! I’m trying to save your life here, all right? If anyone finds out about this we will both be tortured and killed, don’t you know that?’

Ginny sniffled again. ‘I’m sorry. I know I asked you to do it. D’you think I can make myself look crazy?’

‘I think you look dejected enough right now,’ replied Draco. ‘Just don’t look happy.’

‘That won’t be difficult.’ Ginny gave a little cough and Draco’s stomach turned over again. She looked small now. She looked completely dejected, removed from herself. 

‘I’m going to figure out how to get you out of here.’

Ginny nodded. 

Draco looked at his watch. They had an hour before his father would return. ‘I should go ahead and tie you up again – just in case my father is early.’

Ginny nodded again.

Draco wasn’t sure what type of ropes had been put on her before, but he used the strongest binding spell that he knew. ‘ _Copulabracium_.’ 

Ginny’s hands flew together at the wrists, almost as if they were fused. She tried to pull them apart, but the effort was futile. Her breath slowed and she lay back on Draco’s bed, near his headboard where there was no blood or dried fluid. 

‘Will you promise me something?’

‘I don’t like promises.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Ginny, looking at him very seriously. ‘Promise me that you won’t let your father touch me. And promise me that if I die you’ll take my body to The Burrow so my family can bury me.’

Draco’s mind was blank. He couldn’t even process Ginny’s words.

‘I’m not going to let any of them kill you.’

‘Good,’ said Ginny. ‘Don’t let any of them torture me either.’

Draco shook his head. ‘I won’t.’

‘Draco? I meant what I said yesterday about if given enough time I could fall in love with you. It wasn’t a ploy to get you in bed.’

Sniggering, Draco tried to smile, but failed. ‘I didn’t think it was.’

‘I thought I should tell you in case ... Well, just in case.’

Confusion riddled through his body. He had enjoyed her telling him the same thing the day before, and he still liked hearing it, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t overly confused either. Love – that silly emotion. Draco wasn’t sure how to handle something like love. What did you do with it once you had it? 

He was smart enough, though, to know the difference between lust and love. Yesterday, Ginny felt bloody brilliant. She was warm and tight around him, nothing like he had ever felt – physically. He didn’t want to confuse the way he felt when they were joined with reality and he pushed all those pesky emotions away and focused on what it _felt_ like to be with Ginny. Her mouth parted and she breathed heavily, seductively, and it was all he could do to keep from devouring her. Her tongue kept licking the corner of her mouth and he finally gave in and kissed her, their tongues battling as their lower bodies moved in an awkward synch. 

When it was over, Draco figured it was over for good – or at least for a while. But then Ginny kissed his body and he was ready very, very quickly. She hadn’t objected when he found her and joined their bodies once again. The second time was longer and the awkward movements were less clumsy and gauche and more in tune. Ginny met his hips and kept a small smile on her face throughout the entirety of their lovemaking.

Well, _he_ hadn’t called it lovemaking, but she had later when they were in the shower. And when a girl is starkers in front of you, wet and hot, you don’t object to what term she uses for sex. He would just as soon call it ‘fucking’ but something told him Ginny wouldn’t have appreciate it.

As he moved away from the bed and towards his wardrobe to find a shirt that didn’t have Ginny’s blood on it, Draco couldn’t help but look back at her. Sitting on his bed, bound and cut and dishevelled, she looked several years younger. She didn’t need to fake a look of insanity; Draco thought she looked sad and forlorn enough to satisfy his father. Her eyes had an almost-vacant look about them as they gazed up the exposed flesh of her arms. It was a look of disbelief and disgust. Draco had to turn away because the sight of her was making him sick. This never should have happened – any of it. 

Suddenly, his door flew open and Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway. Draco’s Imperturbable Charm had worn off hours ago and he hadn’t bothered to reapply it. 

Lucius eyed his son with a suspicious look as Draco lifted the dirty shirt over his head and found a clean one. As he stepped through the threshold into Draco’s room, Draco saw that his father wasn’t alone; behind him was Severus Snape. 

‘Is it done?’ 

Draco looked up at his father boldly and nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’ His eyes flicked from Lucius over to Snape, who was eying him with what appeared to be an amused expression on his face.

Lucius, looking particularly tall and proud, walked over to Ginny. He grabbed her forearm and held it up, which seemed only to hurt Ginny as her arms were bound behind her back and Lucius was not being gentle. 

‘Some of these are pretty deep,’ said Lucius. 

‘Yes, sir.’

Lucius used his wand to rip Ginny’s shirt and tear it from her body. It earned a yelp from Ginny and Lucius studied the cuts on her stomach and back. Draco was pleased he had insisted he cut her there, knowing his father would be very thorough in his inspection.

‘They’ll leave scars – they won’t be healed in time to prevent it.’ Lucius dropped Ginny’s torn shirt and looked at her face. Immediately, Ginny began to cry. Small, snivelling tears that fell down her cheeks and dropped off the end of her nose. It was perfect; Draco hadn’t known Ginny could cry on command. They might just get away with this yet.

‘I would have liked to see more,’ said Lucius with a disapproving tone, ‘but as this was your first attempt, it was well-done, I think. Would you agree, Severus?’

‘A good _attempt_ , yes,’ said Snape, looking at Draco.

‘The Dark Lord will be satisfied,’ said Lucius. 

‘What will he want done with her now?’ asked Draco. He couldn’t help himself; he _had_ to know what was going to happen to Ginny.

‘You can keep her for a few more days,’ said Lucius, turning to Draco, ‘to use as you wish. The Dark Lord thinks it best to keep her alive or else Potter won’t come.’

‘You want her as bait for Potter? But why did they take only her? Why didn’t they take Potter as well when they were both in the hospital wing at Hogwarts?’

‘Because!’ cried Lucius, his voice thick with annoyance and sudden anger. ‘The Dark Lord wants to fight Harry Potter healthy and strong. Killing him while Potter is weak would give him no satisfaction. He’s through with trying to track him and find him. Potter can find the Dark Lord and if he thinks his girlfriend is being kept captive and tortured, then he’ll come.’

‘Except Ginny’s not _Potter’s_ girlfriend,’ said Draco before he could help himself.

Lucius’ eyes flashed angrily. ‘ _What did you say?_ ’

‘Well – I mean – I don’t know for _sure_ , but rumour at school was that they had broken up.’

Lucius turned to Ginny and Draco’s heart leapt out of fright as his father lifted his wand and said, ‘ _Legilimens!_ ’ Ginny’s face went blank for a few moments before it contorted into a look of struggle. Lucius didn’t look happy as he lowered his wand.

‘Did you – did you see anything?’ asked Draco carefully.

‘She’s learned Occlumency, the little bitch,’ said Lucius. ‘Just a few memories of her and Potter. She’s _quite_ the little slut from what I saw.’

Draco’s eyes flew to Ginny’s, but she was staring at the sheets and wouldn’t lift her head to meet his gaze.

 

‘Who taught her Occlumency?’ mused Snape, his eyes moving from Ginny to Draco. Draco blinked a couple of times; was Snape asking _him_?

‘I don’t know,’ said Lucius, ‘but I have better things to do with my time than to worry with one of the Weasley brats.’ Lucius turned back towards Ginny. ‘Nice job, Draco, but I would have been happier if she was more hurt. She’s obviously still strong enough to use Occlumency.’ And without warning, Lucius raised his wand and pointed it at Ginny, yelling, ‘ _Sectumsventer!_ ’

Draco almost cried out as the front of Ginny’s shirt became soaked with blood. Her face immediately paled and she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her tongue hung out as though she was gagging and sudden, gurgling noises echoed from somewhere in the middle of her throat. Her chocolate eyes rolled up into the back of her head and Draco had to use all of his energy not to show any sort of emotion. He kept his composure even though he thought he might explode from anger and fear.

‘LUCIUS!’ Snape yelled, louder than Draco had ever heard him yell before. ‘Step aside! You cannot kill her! The Dark Lord wants her alive!’

When Lucius didn’t move, Draco watched as Snape pushed him aside and hurried over to Ginny. Her eyes were closed and her skin was very, very white. Snape lifted her shirt and Draco saw a deep slash across her belly, black with blood. The end of Snape’s wand glowed white as he ran it over the wound, closing it up. He said a cleaning spell, but even with all the blood gone, the wound looked nasty and Ginny’s eyes were still closed.

‘Lucius Malfoy, you are fuelled by impulses!’ snarled Snape, turning to Lucius and looking particularly furious. 

‘She’s not dead, is she?’ said Lucius, although it sounded nothing like a question. 

‘No, but—’

‘Then, what, _Severus_ , is the problem?’ Lucius waited for an answer, but Snape didn’t give him one. ‘Fix her up. Do not let her die and I will go tell the Dark Lord that Draco’s work was satisfactory.’

Lucius left Draco’s room without so much as a look from his son. Draco continued to keep his composure, but he was wearing thin. Ginny still looked asleep or unconscious or whatever and the thought of keeping her to ‘use’ for the next few days made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. 

Snape pointed his wand at the bedroom door and it quickly shut.

‘What’re you—?’ 

Snape, then, Imperturbed the door and looked at Draco. ‘If your father pulls another stunt like that, she’s going to die. Lucius will expect his son to continue the rape and torture of her. And I know you don’t want to do it.’

Draco’s mouth hung open in shock. ‘I’m not going to let you do it for me like the last time—’

‘This is not like the last time, Draco,’ said Snape. ‘This is nothing like last time. You will listen to me and listen carefully.’

Draco nodded.

‘ _Don’t_ play both sides.’

‘What? Why can’t—?’

‘LISTEN!’ bellowed Snape. ‘The Order will not trust you. You must not try to join them. The Dark Lord is going to want to send Potter some sign he has Ginny. I don’t know how he wants to do that, but you have to try to keep her safe, do you understand me? No heroics. The first chance you get, take her out of here.’

‘But—’

‘Why do you continue to interrupt me?’ demanded Snape. He seemed to wait for Draco to answer, but when there was nothing but silence, Snape pushed a greasy lock of hair away from his face and continued on. ‘Your father is impulsive and stupid. Ginny needs to go to the hospital.’

‘Can’t the Dark Lord find her at St Mungo’s?’

Snape nodded impatiently. ‘Yes, yes. You need to take her to a Muggle hospital. They can do just as well. The spell your father used was simply a very Dark cutting spell. There is no magical residue lingering in her wound. Muggles cannot heal her as quickly as a medi-wizard could, but it will have to do.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m sure. I cannot fully heal her – I don’t have any potions here that would be of any use, but more than that, to heal her completely would raise questions I do not wish to answer. A Muggle hospital is the only viable option. I would choose one far away from England.’

‘How will I pay for that?’

‘Are you or are you not a wizard?’

Draco nodded. ‘Is this a trap?’

‘Don’t be stupid. Just do as I say and she will be all right.’

‘Why are you helping me?’

‘I’m not as stupid as you think I am,’ said Snape. ‘I do not know _what_ is going on exactly, but it is obvious you did little to torture her.’

‘Of course I did, I—’

‘There is no sign of a struggle,’ interrupted Snape. ‘All her cuts are smooth, straight. I never thought you had it in you to torture and rape a girl. If you were unable to kill Dumbledore, you would be unable to do this task as well. I also know the Weasley family well enough to know none of them would willingly submit to torture. She must have allowed you to do this to her.’

‘I could have put her under a spell—’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘I’m good at the Imperius Curse, though,’ said Draco impatiently. ‘I used it on Flitwick when he wasn’t expecting it last year so I could get passing marks in Charms. And Madam Rosmerta—’

 

‘Draco. If she was under the Imperius Curse she would not have been able to use Occlumency against your father.’ Snape’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Why did Ginny learn Occlumency in the first place?’

‘How should I know?’

‘Do not hand me that utter shite. I know you better than your father does. I have certainly been around you more than he ever has. You _know_. How, _I_ do not know, but you _do_ know. I do not have time to play foolish games with teenagers,’ said Snape nastily, ‘so go ahead and tell me.’

‘You’re still playing both sides,’ stated Draco.

‘I am a free agent,’ Snape said. ‘I am no longer working for the Order, but I am not truly a Death Eater.’ Snape pulled back the sleeve of his black robes and held up his left arm where burnt into his flesh was the Dark Mark. ‘This’ – Snape grabbed Draco’s arm and exposed his own magical tattoo – ‘does not mean anything if you don’t want it to.’ He dropped Draco’s arm. ‘ _Why did she learn Occlumency?_ ’

‘I don’t know!’

Snape drew his wand and pointed it at Draco’s chest. ‘Do not make me hex you, Draco. _Why did she learn_ —’

‘ _Because we’re_ —’ Draco clamped his mouth shut.

‘With a _Weasley_? Draco – when did you become so _stupid_?’

‘I’m not stupid!’

‘If your father found out – if the Dark Lord found out – you both could be killed.’

‘I know that!’ Draco pressed the bottom of his palms into his eyes and breathed deeply in and out ... in and out ... ‘I didn’t want it to happen, it just did.’

‘That is a poor excuse.’

Draco lowered his hands and looked into the face of his old Potions professor. ‘I know that,’ he said. 

‘That is all the more reason why you need to leave. Do it alone; don’t let anyone else know where you are going.’

‘Where will we go?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ answered Snape. ‘I would take money and _not contact anyone_. That includes any of Ginny’s family.’

‘She won’t go for it.’

‘She will if she wants to live.’

 

‘This is mad. We cannot just _disappear_ —’

‘You can until the end of the war.’

‘How long will that take?’

‘I do not know.’

‘Potter will try and rescue Ginny soon, though, won’t he?’

Snape shook his head. ‘Potter will not come.’

Draco’s brow furrowed. Why wouldn’t Potter come? Hadn’t Ginny said Harry was in love with her still? It didn’t make any sense.

‘There are things about the Dark Lord you do not understand,’ said Snape. ‘He has split his soul into seven pieces. One of those pieces was destroyed. The Order has used its time and resources to locate the remaining pieces which are trapped inside various objects called Horcruxes. There is still one that has yet to be found. Until it is found and destroyed, Potter will not come and fight Voldemort. Seventeen-years-old as he is, the Order would forbid it. He cannot risk his life until all six Horcruxes are destroyed. If the Order knew where Ginny was, there would be a rescue team to come get her. A team of Aurors, most likely. As it is, no one knows where she is.’

‘Horcruxes? Did you just make that up?’

‘Draco – you are trying my patience. _No_ , I did not make it up! The Dark Lord does not know Potter has any knowledge of the Horcruxes.’

‘Well, they sound a bit far-fetched.’

‘I assure you, they are perfectly real.’

‘Does the Dark Lord know you are aware of them?’

Snape shook his head and pushed another greasy lock of black hair out of his eyes. ‘You must not speak of anything I have told you.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Good. Draco, there is something you must understand first.’

‘What is it?’ 

‘I took an interest in you as a student not because you were a pureblood, owning opinions much like your father’s, or showed exceeding capabilities at potions, but because I thought you might one day turn around and walk away from the Dark Lord and Dark magic.’

‘Why?’

Snape smiled at Draco, bearing his yellow teeth. ‘Because you were exactly like I was when I was a student at Hogwarts. You think with your wand, not with your head.’

Draco frowned. If he had ever thought he was like anyone, it definitely was not Snape. 

‘What is the last Horcrux?’

‘A cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff.’

Draco felt his face drain. A cup? ‘What does it look like?’

‘Badgers ... two finely wrought handles,’ said Snape. ‘Otherwise, I do not know. The Order might have a better idea, but as I’ve not spoken with them since the end of last year ... It is invaluable so if anyone was to _procure_ it, they would have to be very wealthy.’

Draco nodded, understanding. 

‘I’ve spent far too much time here,’ said Snape. 

‘Are you the only Death Eater here?’ 

‘Your father is here, but yes, it is only the two of us. Your mother is around as well. She spent the entirety of yesterday locked inside her room.’

‘Sir ... are you and my mother—?’

‘Are your mother and I what, Draco?’ Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco as the silence in the room thickened.

‘My mother told me the exact reason why you took the Unbreakable Vow.’

‘Did she?’

‘She’ll like it that you’re continuing to help me.’

‘Yes, well, your mother and I have had a long friendship, but I would tread lightly on these waters, Draco. You do not know anything about the friendship I have with her.’

Draco nodded. ‘Should I go ahead and pack?’

‘You cannot continually take orders from other people. Do what you think you should do. I’m leaving, but I will be here for the next few days while your father goes on “business” for the Dark Lord. I would choose a day to leave soon.’

Draco looked back at his bed, taking in Ginny’s unconscious appearance. ‘Is she still bleeding?’

‘Yes. I cannot fully heal her. I’m not trained in that field.’

Draco blinked several times, nodding his head. He turned and watched Snape lift the charms around his room and leave. Immediately, Draco flung open the doors to his wardrobe and pulled out a large bag at the bottom of it. He shrunk several of his shirts and trousers to stuff inside before going to his chest of drawers and shrinking pairs of socks and pants. Once his bag was mostly-filled, Draco went to his trunk from school and opened it. Bitty had, of course, unpacked for him, but she didn’t know there was a false bottom in the trunk. Draco used his wand to tap it and the bottom rose up, revealing several extra inches of storage space.

Wrapped in black silk, Draco lifted up a golden cup, small, with carvings of badgers with jewelled eyes on the sides. His heart beat quickly as he looked at what he had and remembered the day he got it.

_‘Draco, I am giving you a gift,’ said Lucius on the day before September first of Draco’s second year at Hogwarts. ‘This is a very expensive, valuable gift. It’s over a thousand years old and was once precious to the Dark Lord. Keep it safe for me. The Ministry fancies trying to come and raid the house – well, we won’t let them find anything of value here, will we?’_

_‘No, sir.’_

_‘Good boy. Never let anyone know you have it. Keep it safe and near. One day I shall ask for it back. Do you understand?’_

_‘Yes, sir.’_

_‘Very good, Draco, very good. If the Dark Lord was here, he would be very pleased with you, very pleased indeed.’_

Draco felt as though he could vomit on those words his father once spoke to him. Very pleased, indeed. The Dark Lord was nothing but a hypocritical coward, undeserving of any respect.

Stuffing the cup into his bag along with his clothes, Draco shoved it underneath his bed. First, he needed to get to Gringotts and empty his vault. There were thousands upon thousands of Galleons in it. Draco was not sure of the exact procedure in which one would go about emptying his entire vault, but Draco knew he would be unable to use his Collybus Stone. 

Deciding he should ask his father for permission to go to Diagon Alley to do some shopping, Draco left his room and walked down the hallway to the winding staircase. He went to the ground floor of the mansion and through a maze of several rooms before he came to the closed door of his father’s study. After a deep breath, Draco knocked. The door magically opened and Draco stepped inside.

‘What do you need, Draco?’ asked Lucius without looking up from a stack of papers on his desk. ‘I’m very busy. I’m preparing to leave tonight for a business meeting.’

‘I was wondering if it would be all right if I went to Diagon Alley.’

Lucius looked up and Draco’s pulse quickened.

‘The baby Weasel is still knocked out and I could use a new pair of casual robes. I left my black ones at school accidentally.’

‘Yes, yes, very well, but use the money in your own vault for it. Tell your mother you’re leaving and have her watch the Weasley girl, will you?’

‘Yes, Father,’ said Draco, walking back towards the door.

‘Oh, and Draco?’

Draco stopped and looked at his father.

‘It looked like a nice bit of torture. Good work.’

XXXXXXX

In all his life, Draco never heard praise like that from his father. It preoccupied his thoughts as he Apparated to Diagon Alley and neared Gringotts. Once he got to the wizard bank, he focused his thoughts on his vault. It only took an hour to get through the security checks and once he went to his vault, number four-hundred ninety-three, he stuffed as many Galleons as he could manage into his old schoolbag he had brought with him. Before he left, Draco exchanged half of it for Muggle money, figuring the best way to lay low was not to use magic at all, as disturbing and disgusting as that thought was. Also, it would look suspicious enough taking a girl to a Muggle hospital covered in cuts and gashes. He might as well pay the fees in Muggle money instead of Obliviating an entire hospital full of staff and patients.

Next on his stop was the clothing shop. Draco ordered a couple of robes to be delivered to his house in Wiltshire, even though he planned to be long gone by the time they arrived.

Finally, Draco went to Flourish and Blotts. He went to the Travel section and pulled out a book on wizarding villages around the world. He tried to remember the places Ginny mentioned ... Latvia ... Italy ... Brazil ... There seemed to be a small wizarding village in Sicily, which was right off the shore of Italy. If they were close to it, then Draco could find out more easily news about the war here in England.

Looking at the map of Sicily, Draco chose the closest Muggle town to it: Piraino. That’s where they would go.

Leaving and going back to the mansion, Draco felt more confident about leaving. He Apparated into the back garden and opened the back door and went inside. He heard the voices coming from his bedroom as soon as he finished climbing the stairs to the first floor. The door to his room was opened and inside he saw his father, mother, and Snape all standing at the foot of his bed. He took a quick look at Ginny – she was awake, although just barely.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Ah, there you are,’ said Lucius, turning to his son.

‘Don’t let him do it!’ Draco’s mother cried. ‘I’ll do it – just let me go get my wand!’

‘Shut up! It is not your task!’ snapped Lucius, his eyes remaining on Draco.

‘What’s going on?’ Draco asked again.

‘The Dark Lord set another task for you while you were gone,’ answered Lucius. ‘Your mother doesn’t want you to do it. She thinks we’re going to make a murderer out of you, but that never hurt either of us, did it, Severus?’

Snape looked at Draco with cold, indifferent eyes. ‘No,’ he said.

‘Murder?’

‘The Dark Lord thinks the best way to lure Potter here is to send him the body of Ginny Weasley – dead.’

Draco swallowed. This was not how he had planned to spend the rest of his day. No, murder was definitely not on the agenda. 

‘And he wants _me_ to kill her?’ said Draco.

‘Yes. It is the final part of your imitation.’

‘I will _not_ allow it!’ cried Narcissa. 

‘You do not have a choice!’ bellowed Lucius. ‘Do it, Draco, before we go down to supper.’

‘But I ...’

‘But what, son? You can rape and torture her, but you cannot kill her?’

Draco didn’t answer; he was trying to think of a way to get out of this, but he couldn’t. There did not seem to be an answer, but could he actually kill Ginny?

‘What are you waiting for?’ When Draco didn’t answer, Lucius said, with a low growl, ‘If you don’t do it, I will – _after_ I have my way with her.’

Draco’s eyes flew to his mother’s who looked positively ill at the idea of Lucius ‘having his way’ with a teenage girl. What must his mother be feeling?

‘No, she’s _mine_ ,’ said Draco. ‘I did the raping and the torturing. I’ll finish it.’

‘Very good,’ said Lucius.

Draco took in a deep breath and sat his bag carefully down next to his bed so that the money inside would not make any noise. His wand was in his back pocket and he took it out and held it, pointing at Ginny.

She turned her head and looked at him, heavy-lidded. ‘Do it,’ she said in a raspy voice.

Draco had to swallowed.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I forgive you.’

Draco held the wand tightly in his hand and took another deep breath, steadying himself.

‘ _Do it!_ ’ she said, her voice gaining volume.

‘I _am_ ,’ said Draco, but the words didn’t come out of his mouth. The idea of his father raping her ... he would not allow it. She was better off dead than being raped and tortured by Lucius Malfoy. It would be worse than death. Draco could only imagine what it would be like for Ginny – unbelievable pain, partly, but mostly the idea of his father having sex – forced or not – with a girl _Draco_ fancied made his blood boil. Ginny was _his_. He could not allow that to happen. No, death was better.

‘Don’t forget your promise.’

‘I’m sorry.’ And, then, Draco did it. ‘ _Avada Kedavra!_ ’ 

XXXXXXX

Everything was pure madness after that. The green light shot from the end of Draco’s wand and hit Ginny square in the chest. Her eyes closed and she slumped back against the pillows, unmoving.

Thinking his father would be proud, Draco turned to face Lucius, trying to calm his shaking body. He never thought the first person he would kill would be his girl. 

‘What was that?’ demanded Lucius in a dangerous tone.

Draco was confused. ‘Wha—?’

‘You’re _sorry_? Why did you apologise? What did you promise her?’

Draco thought back – he promised to take her body to The Burrow if she died. She was reminding him of that. Make sure her body got to The Burrow, although that was probably where her body was going to go anyway, as Potter was probably there having it off with the Weasel and Mudblood. 

‘I – nothing,’ said Draco.

‘Liar! I thought her torture looked too clean,’ said Lucius, ‘but I was going to attribute that to you being a novice at it. What _really_ happened here, Draco? Did you torture her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you rape her?’

‘Yes.’

Lucius looked furious. ‘Do not lie to me. I should have checked her more carefully. Did you _rape_ her?’

‘You saw that I did!’

‘What I saw were stained sheets that could have been soiled from a _consensual_ act. _Did you rape her!_ ’

‘No!’ shouted Draco. ‘No, I didn’t!’

Snape groaned and clutched his wand more tightly in his hand, but Draco tried to ignore him.

‘She’s been my girlfriend almost since the beginning of the school term,’ said Draco, barely realising that this was the first and only time he had ever even thought of Ginny as his girlfriend.

It hardly seemed possible, but Lucius looked even more furious.

‘Oh, Draco,’ said his mother, looking tragic. ‘She’s not ...’

‘She is,’ said Draco, figuring that now Ginny was dead there was no reason for him to stay alive as well.

‘The Dark Lord is going to want you dead for this,’ said Lucius.

‘So take me to him.’

Lucius shook his head. ‘I do not think so. I’ll take care of it myself.’ Lucius raised his wand and pointed it at Draco’s chest.

‘NO!’ shouted Narcissa, tugging on Lucius’ arm. ‘Don’t kill my baby! Don’t kill him!’ Her words came out as sobs and tears rolled down her cheeks and nose, dripping off her lips. ‘He’s my baby, Lucius, let him go.’

Lucius pulled his arm out of his wife’s grasp, using his other arm to back hand her so hard she fell to the floor in a heap. The wind seemed to be knocked out of her as she gasped for breath. Draco lifted his wand back up, but his father yelled, ‘ _Expelliarmus_ ,’ and his wand flew across the room and hit the opposite wall behind Lucius. Draco was left, standing a few feet away from his father, waiting for impending death. Oddly, he felt more serene than he ever felt before. Death seemed almost too perfect. He wouldn’t have to run and hide. He wouldn’t have to avoid England for the rest of his life. He could simply die and be out of the war forever.

Draco refused to close his eyes as his father’s mouth opened. As if in slow motion, his father yelled, ‘ _Avada Kedavra!_ ’ and a stream of bright green light shot out form the end of his wand – a straight line, thick and bright. It flew through the air, directly towards Draco’s chest.

But it didn’t hit him.

From the floor, Narcissa pulled her legs underneath her and pushed herself up with enough force to jump in front of the curse. The green light hit her in the shoulder, but it was enough to knock her to the ground. Draco fell to his knees next to her. She wasn’t moving, her chest was still and her eyes closed. 

‘No! Mum!’

Her hair was fanned out around her head, like a halo of sorts, which was ironic because she was anything but holy. Her cheeks were still stained with tears, her lips wet from them. Draco cried. He hadn’t cried in a long time, but now he cried – harder than he ever did in the bathroom where Moaning Myrtle hovered over him. His mother was dead. Ginny was dead. _He_ wanted to die. His mother’s hand was still warm in his as he picked it up and held it in his hands. He barely heard Snape shout the same curse at his father and the crumpled sound of his father collapsing to the ground. None of that mattered because his mother was dead – his father had killed his mother. 

‘Draco,’ said Snape. ‘Let me take care of this. Take Ginny.’

Draco looked up through blurry eyes at Snape. He dropped his mother’s hand and stood up, sniffing. ‘What?’

‘Take Ginny. Go to the back garden and Apparate to Ottery St Catchpole – that’s where The Burrow is. Take Ginny’s body to her parents and then leave England.’

Draco swallowed. His mind was hardly processing any of this, but he nodded. ‘All right.’

‘ _NOW!_ ’ Snape shouted dangerously.

Draco took his bag full of Galleons and his bag full of clothes and slung both over his shoulders. He went to his bed where Ginny lay – skin white as cotton, red lines drawn all over her porcelain skin. He picked her up in his arms. She was small and light in them. She almost looked like a doll – so still and beautiful, the light from the windows highlighting her hair copper. It seemed odd to think of her dead and himself orphaned, but it had happened and he would have to deal with it later, when he was alone, running for his life ... Draco felt as though his heart had literally been ripped out from his chest. He hurt, right in his gut – like a knife was twisting itself in his stomach, round and round, trying to kill him from the inside out. Nothing he had ever experienced felt like this. Nothing. And he wanted to die.

As he went to his door, Draco turned around and looked at Snape. The old Potions professor was kneeling next to Narcissa’s body ... there were no tears, but Snape was smoothing her hair away from her face and somehow Draco felt as though he was intruding, so he left without a glance at his father’s dead body, and went outside to Apparate to Ottery St Catchpole to deliver the lifeless body of Ginny Weasley to her family.

XXXXXXX

**To Be Continued...**

XXXXXXX

A/N: Did I ever explain what a Collybus Stone is? Collybus is Latin and refers to an exchange of money (yes, Latin was my foreign language in high school and I loved it so the spells in my previous stories have Latin bases, even though I am aware they are not grammatically correct). Basically, a Collybus Stone is like a credit card. A wizard taps the amount of money on the stone and the money is taken from the owner’s vault into the vault of whoever taps it. Originally, it was my idea that if you enter an incorrect amount, you would be hexed in some way, as to protect the money in the vault, but I couldn’t find a way to enter that titbit of information into my story, so, well, there you have it.

 


	10. Both of Theirs

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Ten: Both of Theirs**

XXXXXXX

            Harsh sunlight hit her eyes and sent pain searing across her forehead.  She blinked several times before everything came into focus.  The room was bare – just a large mattress, with fine cotton sheets, on a cement floor.  Ginny ran her fingers over the sheets; they were expensive: of that she could tell.  She pushed herself up into a sitting position and grabbed her stomach as an uncomfortable ache stretched across it.  Looking down she saw that she was wearing a long, green button-up shirt.  It was far too big for her, but it felt nice and smooth against her skin.  She reached up and touched her hair.  It felt funny against her scalp ... as odd as she knew that would sound if she dared say it aloud.  It was smooth, but not clean – as if it hadn’t been washed, but had a _Scourgify_ Charm used on it instead.  

            ‘Oof,’ said Ginny as she swung her legs over the side of the mattress.  Her feet hit the cement floor and it was shockingly cold.  She stood up and swayed.  Everything inside her head was muddled; she wasn’t sure what had happened or where she was.  All she knew was that she was wearing a shirt she was _certain_ belonged to Draco and that she was sleeping in a bedroom that had naught but a mattress in it.  

            There wasn’t a door to the bedroom, only an open archway, and Ginny went through it into a short hallway.  There was a bathroom off it, she noted, and another, tiny room directly across from that.  At the end of the hallway was a large room with a leather sofa and a glass coffee table at one end and a Muggle kitchen with a breakfast table at the other.  In the middle of the room was a door, which had to be the door to the outside.  There was a rug under the sofa and coffee table, but other than that, the floor was cement and very cold underneath Ginny’s feet.  She leaned against the wall where the hallway ended, forming a corner and opening up into the large, main room.  Draco was sitting at the table, a book open in front of him, wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans.  He was barefoot and was chewing on a quill as he read.

            Suddenly, he looked up and the quill dropped from his mouth.  ‘Hi,’ he said.

            ‘Hi,’ said Ginny, unexpectedly feeling very shy.  She pulled on the hem of the shirt absentmindedly, trying to tug it down so that it would more fully cover her thighs.  The attempt was rather futile.  ‘Where are we?’

            ‘Oh, right ... you don’t remember, do you?’

            ‘I don’t know ...’ said Ginny slowly.  ‘I don’t think so.’

            ‘What _do_ you remember?’ asked Draco, standing up and walking over to Ginny.  He took her arm and led her to the sofa.  ‘Are you cold?’  His eyes had travelled down to her legs.

            Ginny looked down and noticed she had broken out in gooseflesh.  ‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘I am.’

            ‘Okay.’  Draco got up and disappeared into the hallway.  He came back with a blanket and handed it to Ginny.

            As she spread the blanket out over her lower body, she tried to think about what she last remembered.  ‘I was at your house,’ she said, looking up towards the ceiling, trying to remember.  ‘And we ...’  Ginny felt her face heat up.  She knew she was sporting the famous Weasley blush.  ‘We had sex,’ she said, her eyes returning to Draco.

            He nodded, seemingly unembarrassed.  ‘Is that all?’

            ‘No ... I remember your father coming in.’  Ginny scrunched up her face, trying to think of what happened next.  ‘Oh ... _Ohh_ ... you tried to kill me.’

            Draco’s eyes narrowed.  ‘That was _not_ what happened next.  My father used a cutting spell’ – he gestured towards her stomach – ‘and it almost killed you.  Snape tried to heal it, but he couldn’t do it completely.’

            ‘Oh, yes, I remember that,’ said Ginny, shuddering at the memory.  ‘ _Then_ you tried to kill me.’  Draco looked as though he was about to blow a fuse and Ginny laughed – she had to clutch her stomach as the laughter made her ache.  

            ‘Be _careful_ ,’ snapped Draco, reaching out towards her. 

            Ginny pushed his hands away.  ‘Sorry,’ she said at the hurt-look on his face.  ‘I didn’t mean ...  I know you were doing what you could to protect me.  I asked you to kill me.  When I made you promise to take me to The Burrow?  I _knew_ I wasn’t going to die – or I had a pretty good idea that I wouldn’t.  Hermione—’

            ‘I know about Hermione’s potion,’ interrupted Draco.  ‘You told me when you woke up and before you passed out again.’

            ‘Oh.  Well.  Good.  I _couldn’t_ tell you about it before that because I wasn’t sure it would work.  But it obviously did, didn’t it?  I figured if I made you promise to take my body to my family you would do it as quickly as possible and perhaps I wouldn’t wake up surrounded by a bunch of Death Eaters ...’

            Draco only looked at her.  She felt a pang in her chest.  She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious or any of that, but she knew she had missed those eyes – those blue-grey eyes that danced over her face, as if taking in every detail, every freckle.  

            ‘What happened after you used the curse on me?’

            Draco swallowed.  ‘It’s a very long story.’

            ‘I don’t mind.’

            ‘Well – when you woke up you were weak and passed out again, but you were breathing so I ... I took you to a Muggle hospital.’

            ‘Where?’

            ‘In France.  It was the farthest away that I dared Apparate to with you.  I’d been to Paris before so I knew where to Apparate.’

            ‘How long was I there?’

            ‘Three weeks.’

            Ginny blinked.  ‘ _Three weeks_?  How long have I been _here_ – where _is_ here?’

            ‘Sicily.’

            Ginny felt overwhelmed.  Sicily?  _Sicily_?  ‘Wait ... all right, so three weeks in a Muggle hospital?’

            ‘I couldn’t risk being found if I took you to one of _our_ hospitals.’

            ‘But you let Muggles take care of me?  Are you _mad_?’

            Draco snorted.  ‘Yes, probably.  It was the _only_ option we had.  The spell my father used cut into your liver – or something – and so the Muggle doctors had to do surgery and then _sew_ you up.  Then, _of course_ , you got some daft Muggle infection and so I’ve been having to give you these pink, plastic things and making sure you swallow them.  Oh, and they tried to arrest me.’

            ‘ _What_?’

            ‘That’s also a long story.  Maybe later.  So, they gave me a hospital bill, I paid it, and I took you out of there.  We took the Duchess Express to Italy and then a boat to Sicily.’

            ‘We took the what?’

            ‘Duchess Express?  International wizard train.  Like the Knight Bus?  Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it.’

            ‘Well, I haven’t,’ said Ginny defensively.  ‘How long have we been here?’

            ‘A week.’

            ‘Where _is_ here?’

            ‘Sicily.’

            Ginny rolled her eyes.

            ‘We’re in a flat above a pub on the outskirts of Piraino – a town here.  It’s all Muggle around here, unfortunately.’

            ‘How are you surviving?  You hate Muggles.’

            ‘I do not _hate_ Muggles.  So far everyone has been fairly nice, but if they knew who _we_ were, they’d turn on us.  That’s the nature of Muggles.’

            Ginny wasn’t in any shape to argue with him, so she remained silent.  ‘So ... you took care of me?  This whole week?’

            

            ‘You’ve been in and out,’ he said.  ‘You haven’t eaten, really, but you did drink almost an entire cup of tea yesterday morning.  I don’t have any clothes for you, so I had to give you one of my shirts.’

            ‘That’s all right,’ said Ginny, fingering the soft fabric of Draco’s green button-down.  ‘I don’t mind.  I rather like it.  I’m surprised you took care of me.’

            ‘Why?’

            ‘I don’t know.’

            ‘Did you think I was going to leave you to fend for yourself?’

            ‘I – no.  No, of course not.  I would have expected a house-elf to—’

            ‘To take care of you?  Ginny, you are completely daft sometimes.’

            Ginny should have felt incensed, but the emotions just couldn’t come.  Draco had _taken care_ of her.  Tended to her while she’d been sick.  He’d given her some of his clothes and fed her and given her medicine.  It all seemed far too intimate to be characteristic of Draco Malfoy.  But still ... it had happened ... and it made that pang in her chest spasm even harder.  

            ‘Thank you,’ said Ginny softly.

            Draco shrugged.  ‘It wasn’t as though I had a choice.’

            Oh, how he could ruin a mood!  But there was more truth in his statement than he probably realised.  He didn’t have a choice because Ginny doubted leaving her or having someone else tend to her even crossed his mind.  He probably didn’t _want_ anyone else doing it.  He loved her; she knew he did.  Or ... he was close to loving her, anyway.  This proved it.  _More_ than proved it.  

            ‘What time is it?’

            Draco looked at the silver watch on his wrist.  ‘Almost seven.’

            ‘I’m hungry.’

            ‘There’s food in the kitchen.  I’ve been cooking like a goddamn Muggle all week.’

            ‘Why aren’t you using magic?’

            ‘Rules are much, much stricter here than in England.  The blasted Italians monitor _everything_.  They have registries of all the wizards in the country and if there’s any unauthorised magic ... well, they’ll come and investigate.  Small spells I think are all right.  _Scourgify_ and things like that.  Those aren’t spells that might warrant investigation.  I might be overly cautious, but I don’t want anyone to know we are here.’

            ‘But who did you tell them we were?’

            ‘Tell who?’

            ‘Whoever you’re letting the flat from.’

            ‘Oh, the restaurant owner.  I told him that we were from France.  Or ... that you were from France.  When I first got here you were still in the hospital in Paris and I saw a notice that there was a flat to let.  I told the bloke that it would be for me and my French ... friend.  When I brought you here, you weren’t in any shape to talk, so I just told him you didn’t know any English or Italian, only French.  That way, if anyone asks around, they’ll think there’s an Englishman and a Frenchwoman here ... and that doesn’t describe the real us.’

            ‘Brilliant,’ said Ginny.

            ‘A few townsmen know who I am.  They call me Denis and think we owned a furniture store in Paris before you got sick.’

            ‘Why a furniture store?’

            ‘Because when I was trying to find things to fill this place, they noticed I had expensive tastes.’

            Ginny smiled.  ‘Of course you do.  Spared no expense, I’m sure.’

            ‘I have enough money in my bag alone to never have to work for the rest of my life.  Why should I worry about sparing money?  There’s no need.  Besides, I like the feel of fine Italian leather.’

            ‘It suits you.  There’s not a lot of furniture here.’

            Draco shook his head.  ‘No ... there’s not.  It’s only been a week.’

            ‘How long are we going to be here?’

            ‘We?  I don’t know about _we_ , but I like it here.  I’ll stay until I get bored with it.  You, though ... when the war is over, I expected you’d go back to your family.’

            Ginny swallowed.  Right ... she’d forgotten about them.  Her family.  Her mum and dad must be going mad wondering where she was and if she was dead.  She’d have to go to them, wouldn’t she?  But would she stay?  Or would she come back to Draco?

            ‘What about your family?’ she asked.  ‘You don’t want to go back to your mother?’

            ‘She’s dead.’

            ‘She’s – what?’

            ‘My father killed her.  Then Snape killed him.’

            ‘ _Snape_?’  Ginny was shocked.  Why would Snape ...?  ‘I thought he was a Death Eater?’

            ‘No, he’s not.  He’s not on either side anymore.’

            ‘Why did he kill your father?’

            ‘Because of my mother,’ said Draco, looking away.  

            ‘What d’you mean?’

            ‘It’s a long story.’

            ‘Will you _stop_ saying that?  I want to hear about Snape.’

            ‘I thought you were hungry.’

            ‘Oh,’ said Ginny, ‘well, I am.  I can listen and eat.’

            Draco gave her a small smile and got up to get her something to eat.

XXXXXXX

            Draco couldn’t sleep.  Ginny was beside him, curled up into a small ball on her side, with her back to him.  Her hair was still wet from her shower and he could see the dark spot underneath her head where the sheets were soaking up the water.

            He hadn’t really expected to see Ginny so awake so soon.  He’d cooked her dinner and she’d eaten quickly and asked for seconds.  Then, she took a shower and fallen asleep on the sofa as Draco continued to read his book.  He’d told her he chose Sicily because she said it was one of the places she wanted to visit.  She smiled and kissed him, but it was short and sweet.  He wanted to touch her like he had when they were back at Malfoy Mansion, but he knew he couldn’t.  Not yet, anyway.  But he was dying to.  He wanted to be that close to her again, only this time without the possibility of death looming over their heads.

            When he left Snape draped over his mother’s body, he’d gone down the stairs and into the back garden.  He gently laid Ginny’s body on the grass and cried – real tears, like the ones he shed in the privacy of the abandoned lavatory when he was a sixth-year.  But then ... she’d woken up and immediately his life was thrown into even more disarray.  He Apparated them to France and sought out a Muggle hospital.

                        

            _‘I need a Healer.’_

_‘Excuse-moi?’_

_‘Shite.  Uh ... why didn’t I pay more attention to my mother when she taught me French?’_

_‘Quoi?’_

_‘Je voudrais?  No, ah – j'ai besoin d'un Heal – j’ai besoin d’un docteur.’_

_A small, blonde girl nodded quickly and stood up, looking at the girl in Draco’s arms.  Ginny was breathing deeply and slowly, but that didn’t calm his nerves any.  The girl, wearing some sort of strange smock, ran through a pair of double doors, leaving Draco alone in a large waiting room.  Had he come in the right way?  The sign_ had _read Emergency, hadn’t it?_

_A man came back through the doors with the girl, pushing a bed with wheels towards them._

_‘Pose-t-elle sur le lit.’_

_Draco tried to translate the words into English.  He was very bad at French.  Lit, well, that meant bed.  And pose meant ... lay down ... ohh, right.  Draco lay Ginny down and the doctor pushed her towards the back.  He followed the doctor through the double doors and to a small area sectioned off by a curtain._

_‘Est-elle malade?’_

_‘Er ...’_

_The doctor looked rather annoyed.  ‘Es-tu Americain?’_

_‘Non!  Je suis Anglais!’  American?  How dare he.  He was English, not American!_

_‘Is she sick?’_

_‘No,’ said Draco.  ‘She’s ...’  He pulled up her t-shirt and showed him the deep gash in her stomach._

_‘What happened?’ the doctor asked urgently._

_‘I don’t know – I found her like this,’ said Draco, trying to sound convincing.  ‘She’s my sister and I was coming to Paris to meet her.’_

_The doctor barked out an order in quick French to another man walking by._

_‘This is – did someone try to stitch her up?’_

_‘No.  Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with her.  Just_ fix her _, all right?’_

            Draco sighed.  The Muggles hadn’t made it easy for him or Ginny.  After they whisked Ginny away for surgery, to fix something or other that was bleeding inside of her, two policemen had come asking questions.  They wanted to _arrest_ him.  Draco had never been more incensed in his life.  It was fairly easy to figure out that Ginny wasn’t his sister, although Draco never gave any indication that she was anything but.  The policemen let him go – they hadn’t had much choice, there wasn’t any evidence that Draco did anything to her.  In fact, the doctors had no idea what had even happened in the first place.  The consensus was, Ginny had been stabbed, but that didn’t explain how most of her wound seemed to be sewn back together without any outward signs of stitches.  It also didn’t explain the cuts all along her arms and chest and abdomen.  Draco preferred not to think about any of those.

            Then, Ginny had got the fever.

            It was an infection.  The stupid, fucking Muggle doctors couldn’t even keep her healthy!  He knew there was a reason why wizards were better than Muggles.  None of the doctors would let him see Ginny while she was sick, so he left France and came to Sicily.  He was only gone for four days, but he managed to find a place to stay and a bit of furniture to put inside.  He told her while she ate dinner tonight he hadn’t had time to really make the place as nice as he wanted, to make the place up to his standards, but the truth was he wanted it to be Ginny’s place as well.

            _I’m going soft_ , he thought.  But if Ginny thought of it as _their_ flat, then perhaps she would stay.  And he wanted her to stay, even though he knew he would never be able to say it to her.

            The war could last years and Snape told him Potter wouldn’t go after Voldemort until all the Horcruxes were found.  That meant if Draco didn’t send Potter that cup that Ginny could stay with him, right?  He knew he wouldn’t be able to actually do it.  At some point he’d have to tell her about it.  He’d let her decide what to do with it.  It might not even be a Horcrux.  After all, why would his father even have one?  With all the raids Malfoy Mansion always went through?  Could they really keep something _that_ precious safe?

            Next to him, Ginny grunted and he stilled his breathing, hoping he wasn’t thinking loud enough to wake her.  She settled back down and her breathing returned to normal.  When he thought she was dead, it felt as though his heart had been ripped right out of his chest.  He’d never imagined he could feel pain like that.  But not just Ginny – his mother as well.  Surviving without his mother would have been difficult, but Ginny would have kept him going.  Without either of them ... Draco wasn’t sure what the point of living would be.  Revenge, perhaps.  Revenge against all the blasted Death Eaters who made other people feel just like this.

            That wasn’t necessary now, though.  He had Ginny.  She was next to him.  Even though he was only seventeen – _almost eighteen, though,_ he reminded himself – this felt right.  Sleeping next to Ginny felt right.  It felt complete, set.  As if he no longer needed anything else.  Well, that was silly, wasn’t it?  Who had these types of thoughts at seventeen years old?  And Ginny!  She was only sixteen.  Hardly old enough to make a decision like that.

            All of this was completely daft.  Draco didn’t have feelings like this.  He didn’t love anyone.  He didn’t need anyone.

            Ginny grunted again and Draco turned over, circling his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him until her back was pressed against his front.  She sighed in her sleep and Draco kissed her shoulder.  

            Tomorrow he would take her to get some new clothes.  She couldn’t go around wearing his shirts all the time.  Then maybe she’d want to go to dinner.  He was tired of cooking.  He never did it at home and he certainly never planned on doing it.  And maybe when they got back home he’d show her the cup.  

            Maybe.

XXXXXXX

            The next morning, Ginny woke up with a pain in her stomach and an arm draped loosely around her waist.  The only window in the room was above the mattress and light was streaming in and warming up the bed.  It was such an odd feeling, waking up next to someone.  When she was little she would sometimes sleep in her parents’ bed, right between her mum and dad.  Once she was old enough to sleep on her own, they only allowed her to do it on Saturday nights, when the whole family was able to sleep in.  She stopped, though, when she was seven – except for the night Ron left for Hogwarts.  She was the only Weasley child left in the house and she felt lonely.

            

            Now, though, it was different.  This was nothing like waking up nestled between her parents.  This was Draco behind her ... _his_ arm holding on to her.  She’d never got the chance to wake up with Harry like this.  Briefly, the thought of what it would feel like to have Harry’s arm around her flew through her mind.  Would it have felt the same?  Ginny had no idea; she loved both boys in different ways.

            Harry – she fell in love with him because he was noble and honourable.  He was brave and even if he had a temper, he was loyal to his friends.  With her, he was cautious and careful.  He kissed her gently, but deeply, and twirled her hair in his fingers when he did so.  In the weeks they went out, they never once fought.  He snapped her head off once, but immediately afterwards he apologised – freaking out that he had offended her.  

            Draco – Ginny fell in love with Draco because ...  Why had she fallen in love with Draco?  They were so different.  

            _No, we’re not_.

            They were both stubborn and thick-headed.  They were both passionate – about each other and what they believed in.  Draco didn’t want to follow Voldemort when he found out Voldemort was part Muggle; Ginny admired him for that.  And when he kissed her, there was fire.  That’s not to say that when she kissed Harry her heart didn’t race, because it did, but with Draco there was blinding heat, intensity and fervour that extended down into her belly.  There was a passion, a devouring passion, as though they couldn’t get enough of one another, as though they could never get close enough.  

            

            Harry was safe.  Once he defeated Voldemort – and Ginny was sure he would – her heart would be safe.  He broke it once for stupid, noble reasons, but he would never dare break it again.  Draco, though ... Ginny wasn’t sure she trusted her heart with Draco.  He _had_ taken care of her, though, all by himself.  That was something, wasn’t it?

            ‘ _Buongiorno_ ,’ Draco breathed against her neck.

            ‘What?’

            ‘ _Buongiorno_.  It means “good morning” in Italian.’

            ‘I didn’t know you spoke Italian,’ said Ginny, turning her body around so she was facing Draco.  Underneath his eyes were dark, as if he hadn’t slept, which didn’t surprise Ginny as he hardly ever slept in the first place.  

            ‘A little.’

            ‘Where did you learn it?’

            ‘Around,’ said Draco with a small shrug.  He pushed her fringe off her forehead and looked at her.  She felt colour fill her cheeks as he studied her.

            ‘What is there to do around here?’

            ‘Around the town?  There’s a beach fairly close by and a few shops, but there’s nothing much here, really.  There’s a town about fifteen kilometres away, but we’d have to walk or learn how to drive a car.’

            Ginny’s eyes bugged.  ‘ _Drive_?’  She shook her head.  ‘We’d kill ourselves!’

            ‘Then, we’ll have to settle for what’s around here.  Besides, it would take entirely too long to walk fifteen kilometres, practically all day.’

            ‘That’s all right.  What are we going to do today, then?’

            ‘You need clothes.  You’re still wearing mine.’

            ‘I don’t have any money to buy new clothes.’

            

            Draco snorted.  ‘I am going to pay for it.’

            ‘I don’t want you to do that—’

            ‘You _do_ know that I have loads of money, yeah?  Buying you a few bits of clothing won’t hurt my financial state.’

            Ginny rolled her eyes, but it was playful.  ‘Well, all right.’  She sat up and immediately hissed as a pain shot across her stomach.

            ‘Maybe you shouldn’t do anything ...’

            ‘No,’ said Ginny, ‘I’ll be all right.’  She swallowed hard.  ‘It doesn’t hurt that much.  Only when I move too quickly.  And I wouldn’t mind having some new clothes ... I’ve never had new clothes before.’

            Draco flinched.  ‘What, never?’

            ‘No.  Does that surprise you?’

            ‘No, not really.  Your clothes usually looked second-hand.’

            ‘That’s because they were,’ said Ginny, bracing herself.  The last thing she wanted to have happen was a fight with Draco.  ‘You buy your clothes used when you’re poor.  You wouldn’t know anything about that, though, would you?’

            ‘No,’ said Draco, without a hint of any remorse.  

            ‘Right,’ said Ginny, turning so that she could stand up.  From behind her, Draco took her arm and pulled her back.

            ‘Don’t,’ he said as he sat up.

            He put both arms around her and pulled her again until she was pressed up against his chest.  His lips felt warm against her neck as he kissed her there, and Ginny leaned her head to the side to give him better access.  His fingers curled around her arm as his other hand lifted up the shirt she wore and touched her hip before caressing her belly very, very softly.  Ginny took in a quick breath as Draco’s hand travelled upwards and ran across her breast.  Then, his entire hand covered her and began to massage.  

            Feeling rather bold, Ginny turned until she faced Draco, lifted up the hem of her shirt, and pulled it over her head.  She always liked watching him as he touched her – every time he looked as though he was in immense concentration.  This time, his eyes were locked on her chest and he wet his lips.  

            Suddenly, Ginny felt very self-conscious about the scars covering her.  Her hands flew to her stomach where the large gash had been sewed up.

            ‘Don’t,’ said Draco.  He bent down and kissed the ugly scar and ran his fingers across it.

            ‘It’s ugly.’

            ‘No, it’s not.’

            ‘Can you make it go away?’

            Draco shook his head.  ‘No.  That’s a magical cut.  I think you’ll carry a scar from it forever.’  

            Ginny closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths.

            ‘Move your hands.’

            ‘No—’ 

            Draco removed Ginny’s hands from her stomach and almost without warning, his hands were everywhere and it was all Ginny could do to keep breathing normally.  She wanted his shirt and his pyjama bottoms off _now_ and she tried to get him to shed his clothes.  

            Ginny’s heart sped up.  They hadn’t done this in a month – although, from Ginny’s perspective, the timeline seemed much shorter.  The first time was forced, a matter of life and death.  There hadn’t been much time to prepare – mentally or emotionally.  Was she prepared now?  But Draco’s hands were moving and her hands were moving and –

            ‘Draco, stop.’

            Draco stopped sucking on her neck and looked at her with sudden concern filling his eyes.  ‘Are you okay?’

            ‘I don’t think I’m ready,’ said Ginny.

            Draco’s brow furrowed and he looked thoroughly confused and hurt – definitely hurt.  

            ‘My – my stomach,’ she answered quickly.  

            Draco swiftly moved off her.  ‘Ah – I should have figured.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.  I didn’t do it on purpose.’

            ‘No need to get defensive.  It’s all right.  You didn’t know.’  Ginny raised her hand to Draco’s cheek and ran her thumb across her bottom lip.  ‘I’m sorry.  Moving too fast hurts.’

            

            ‘Right, right.’  Draco took in a few steadying breaths.  ‘I’m going to take a shower.  We’ll go get you some clothes after that.’

            ‘Draco – wait,’ said Ginny, not wanting him to go and certainly not wanting him to go angry.  ‘I’m sorry ...’

            He shrugged.  ‘It’s fine.  But I’m still going to take a shower.  If I don’t take care of this’ – he gestured towards his crotch – ‘then I’m going to go be in a foul mood for the rest of the day.’

            ‘Oh ...  Really?’

            Draco smirked.  ‘Yes, really.’

            ‘I’ll help you.’  Ginny snaked her hand between their bodies, running it down his torso until it gripped him.  ‘I’ve done it before – I can do it well.’

            ‘I know.  I remember,’ said Draco, relaxing his body and moving so that he was lying on his back.

            ‘So we can do it like this,’ whispered Ginny, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Draco’s mouth, ‘until I’m – until my stomach stops hurting quite so much.’

            Draco nodded.  ‘Whatever – just stop talking.’

            And after that, Ginny was silent.

XXXXXXX

            Draco walked slowly next to Ginny down the pebbled walkway between the shops in the centre of the small town.  He was in a strange mood and he was sure Ginny had picked up on it.  He was his usual, superior-acting self, but he knew he was a bit on edge.  Ginny seemed normal last night – she was stubborn, witty, and happy.  This morning, though, she was feisty – touching him everywhere – but suddenly she closed off.  Sure, she gave him an orgasm, but it was before that ... when she wanted to stop.  Somehow Draco didn’t actually think that her stomach was the problem, but what choice did he have other than believe her?  

            Still – he was _very_ glad Ginny was all right.  In the week they’d been living above the restaurant, Draco had met a small portion of the townspeople.  He cooked several meals for himself, but when he didn’t feel like cooking, he’d go downstairs and eat in the restaurant there.  The food was all right and it was always on the house since he paid rent to the owner.  Now that Ginny was better, she could start coming with him.  The townspeople would probably love her.  

            ‘Where are we going?’

            ‘There’s a store up here that sells clothes.  Remember, though, that you’re supposed to be French and know hardly any English.’

            ‘But I don’t speak French.’

            ‘That’s all right.  Just show me what you want.’

            Ginny stopped walking.  Draco turned on his heels a few feet in front of her, wondering what she was doing.

            ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

            ‘You ...’

            ‘ _Me_?’

            ‘No ...’

            ‘No?  You’re not making any sense.’  

            Ginny’s cheeks reddened.  ‘I meant, _you_ – you’re being so nice to me.’

            ‘Aren’t I always nice?’ asked Draco, knowing full-well he wasn’t.

            ‘No.  But you took care of me and you’re buying me new clothes.’

            ‘You don’t have anything to wear.’

            ‘I know.’  Ginny reached out and took his hand.  ‘You’re still being nice to me.  I’m sorry about this morning.’

            ‘I already told you it’s all right.’

            ‘Draco?’

            Draco swallowed as Ginny closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him.  She smelled good.

            ‘Thank you for everything.  I love you.’

            Draco was glad her face was against his chest; she was so small compared to him.  He didn’t want her to see the shocked expression he was certain was on his face.  Dumbfounded, he swallowed and wrapped his arms around her, returning the hug.  Surrounded by Muggles on the road, Draco normally would have pushed Ginny away; he did not like public displays of affection and he certainly did not want to put anything on display in front of a bunch of Muggles.  But this felt all right.  This felt natural.  So he returned the hug and kissed the top of her head.

            They moved apart and as Draco began to walk down the street again, he felt Ginny take his hand and hold it.  He’d called her his girlfriend to his father, even though he never said the word to her, but now she actually felt like one, holding hands as they walked.

XXXXXXX

            With three bags of new clothes and one bag of new shoes, Ginny felt giddy.  They had to stop twice on the walk back to the restaurant so she could sit down and rest, but it didn’t dampen her mood any.  Draco refused to let her look at the total bill, but she was sure he’d spent a fortune.  He didn’t seem to mind and for once, Ginny allowed herself to be spoiled.  They made it back to the restaurant and Draco said he was hungry, so they chose a table in the corner, far away from the other patrons.

            When it came time to order, Ginny pointed to a pasta dish on the menu that sounded truly divine when Draco described it to her.  Draco had some sort of seafood thing which Ginny was certain was fairly expensive.

            ‘How long d’you think we’ll have to stay here?’

            Draco shrugged.  ‘I have no idea.  We can’t go back to England – we’ll be killed if we go back.’

            ‘I know that,’ said Ginny.  ‘But I want to see my family.  They have no idea if I’m all right, do they?’

            ‘No.  There’s a town near here that’s half-Muggle, half-wizard.  I plan on going there every few weeks to see what’s going on with the war.  I’m sure their papers are reporting it.  The ones in France were – I checked while you were in hospital there.’

            ‘I hope we don’t have to stay here too long.’

            Surprisingly, Draco looked stung by her statement, and said, ‘What, ready to leave already and go back to Potter?’

            ‘No!  I didn’t mean it like that.  I don’t want to go back with Harry.  I want to stay with _you_.  But I miss my family.  I want them to know I’m all right.’

            Draco picked up a piece of bread from the basket in the centre of the table and tore it up into small pieces.

            ‘I’d feel better if they just knew I was okay.’  Ginny drummed her fingers against the tabletop.  ‘If we go back to England, what’ll happen to us?’

            Draco looked up from his pieces of bread.  ‘What are you trying to ask?’

            ‘I ... I don’t know exactly.  Are we still going to see each other?  Or would we break up?’

            ‘Break up?’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘Break up implies the destruction of an established relationship.’

            ‘Isn’t that what we have?’ asked Ginny.  ‘A relationship?’

            ‘Is it?’

            

            ‘Well, I thought so,’ answered Ginny, suddenly feeling very, very self-conscious.  ‘Maybe I was wrong—’

            ‘I don’t know if we’d break up,’ interrupted Draco.  ‘That depends on a lot of things.  Like your family.  They wouldn’t just let you stay involved with a Malfoy.  We’re sworn enemies.  Plus, you’re very young—’

            ‘So are you!’

            ‘—and you may change your mind about me.’

            ‘I’ve had enough boyfriends in the past to know that the way I feel about you is much, much different.’

            Draco signalled for the waitress and pointed to a selection on the wine list and _due vetri_ – which he told Ginny meant ‘two glasses.’  When the wine came, Ginny took a sip and tried not to make a face.  She had tried Firewhisky once, but other than that, she’d never had anything stronger than Butterbeer, which was like drinking fizzy water and didn’t get you drunk.  This wine, though, could be dangerous.  After one sip Ginny swore she felt her head get warm and almost-fuzzy.

            ‘Are you going to get a job?’

            ‘What?’

            ‘Are you going to get a job?’ repeated Ginny.

            ‘I heard what you said, but I have no idea what you mean.’

            ‘A job?  Like, where you do work and get a pay check in return.’

            ‘I know what a job is.  Why would I get one?’

            ‘Don’t you think the townspeople might ask questions if they see two people living in their town without an obvious means of income?’

            ‘I told them I used to own a furniture store in France.’

            ‘I know, but I still think they might ask a lot of question we cannot answer.  We should get jobs.  Or, at least, I should.’

            ‘Doing what?’

            ‘I don’t know,’ answered Ginny truthfully.  ‘But I bet I could find something – once my stomach finishes healing.  You should find something as well.  You’ll get bored if all you do is read.’

            ‘I like reading,’ said Draco haughtily.  ‘Besides, I don’t want to work amongst _Muggles_.’

            ‘You’re living around them.’

            ‘That’s different.  This is the easiest way to hide from Death Eaters who might try to look for us.  They’d never expect to see a Malfoy _here_.  I do not want to work with Muggles.  I don’t like Muggles and the less I have to associate with them, the better.’

            ‘You come here to eat, though.’

            ‘Sometimes, yes, for lack of other options.’

            Deciding it was time for a change of subject, Ginny said, ‘Tell me what happened with Snape.  Why did he kill your father?’

            ‘Because he loved my mother.’

            Ginny almost choked on her wine.  She swallowed it, coughed, and said, ‘ _What_?’

            

            ‘When my father was a seventh-year at Hogwarts, Snape was a first-year.  My mother was a third-year.  She and my father knew each other, but it wasn’t until after Hogwarts that they got involved.  They re-met at a part my grandfather threw for all the purebloods in Great Britain.  Anyway – when my mother was at Hogwarts, Snape was infatuated by her, but she knew there was something different about him and that her parents would never, ever approve.’

            ‘Probably that he wasn’t a pureblood,’ commented Ginny.

            ‘My mother never said,’ replied Draco.  ‘When she was a seventh-year and he a fifth, they were ...’

            ‘Involved?’

            Draco held up his hands as if to say ‘I don’t know.’  

            ‘Wow.  Your mother with _Snape_?’

            ‘I think she might have felt sorry for him – I don’t know.  She said they stopped seeing one another once she left school, but they wrote, and when she wrote and told him she had accepted the proposal of Lucius Malfoy, Snape pleaded with her not to marry him.  He was only seventeen so my mother told him he was young and naïve.  She said she never had an affair with him, but she _did_ continue to write him.’

            ‘Is that why Snape’s been single all these years?  Because he’s pining away for your mother?  That’s so romantic.’

            ‘That’s such rubbish.  He wasted time and energy on a woman he could never have.’

            ‘He had her once.  He probably thought he could have her again,’ argued Ginny.

            ‘It doesn’t matter anymore,’ said Draco darkly.  ‘Anyway, that’s why he kept such a close eye on me at school.  One of the reasons.  That’s also why he accepted that Unbreakable Vow.  Because he ... _loved_ her.’

            ‘That’s amazing.  I know you don’t think it’s romantic, but I do.  To love someone your whole life, even if you can’t have them.’

            ‘Romance is useless.’

            ‘I wish you would stop saying things like that,’ said Ginny.  She reached across the table and took hold of Draco’s hand.  He tried to wiggle out of her grasp, but she held on tight.  ‘It’s all right, you know, to _feel_ things.  It’s all right to be romantic and fall in love and accept being loved.’

            ‘What are you on about?’ Draco snapped.

            ‘I think you don’t want to appear vulnerable or weak or anything, but it’s _all right_.  Your mother loved you.  You’re capable of being loved.  Although, as nasty as you are sometimes I’m surprised she loved you as long as she did.  You can say that _I’m_ young and naïve all you want, but I know how I feel and I wish that it didn’t make you feel so uncomfortable.  _I love you_.’

            Draco shifted in his seat.  

            ‘I don’t need roses or candy or flowers.  I don’t need lots of expensive gifts.  You don’t have to worry about romancing me.  I don’t need to be romanced to know that you care about me.’

            ‘I wouldn’t give you roses anyway.’

            ‘That’s all right,’ said Ginny.

            ‘I don’t – I don’t like giving gifts.  I’m no good at gifts.  Buying things for people ...’

            ‘You bought me clothes.’

            ‘You picked them out.’

            ‘Ah, I see.’

            ‘When I was with Daphne I never gave her anything.  I don’t give gifts.’

            ‘Like I said – I don’t need gifts to know how you feel about me.’

            ‘And how _do_ I feel about you?’ challenged Draco.

            ‘You tell me – how _do_ you feel?’

            Draco snorted.  ‘Look, here’s our food.’

            Disappointed, Ginny turned her attention to the bowl of pasta set in front of her by the waitress.  She wanted to know how Draco felt.  Instead, they began to eat their dinners in silence.

            ‘Later, when you feel better, I want you to go to Ranalli’s and find some furnishings to go in the bedroom.’

            ‘What’s Ranalli’s?’

            ‘A furniture shop.  It’s where I got the sofa.  Fine Italian leather.  Beautiful pieces.’

            ‘You want me to go alone?’

            

            ‘I _can_ go with you, but whatever you choose I’m sure will be fine.’

            Ginny felt confused.  Draco wanted her to choose furniture for their flat?  But his standards were so high and his tastes so formal.  ‘What if I choose wrong?  It’s your money – you’re paying for the flat and what’s already in it, plus you bought me all these new clothes.  You should choose the furniture.’

            ‘Are we or are we not living up there together?’

            ‘We are, but—’

            ‘But you want it to be _my_ flat instead of both of ours?’

            ‘Both of ours?’  Ginny felt a smile tug on the corners of her mouth.  ‘Really?’

            ‘Why would I have you here if I didn’t want you here?  It’s both of ours.’

            ‘Why, Draco, you’ve got a romantic side of you after all.’

            Draco snorted a laugh again and twirled his pasta around his fork using the extra-large spoon.  He brought the fork to his mouth and ate the pasta without any of it falling back into the bowl.  Ginny could not eat so elegantly.  

            ‘How will I choose any furniture alone?  I can’t speak Italian.’

            ‘I’ll tell them you’re coming and tell them I’ll take care of the expenses.  Whatever you point to and want, you can have.’

            ‘Hmm ...’ hummed Ginny.  ‘All right.’

            They finished their meal with a bit of small talk here and there and made their way upstairs to the flat.  Ginny took a shower and changed into her brand new pyjamas.  Draco was on the sofa, reading again.  She showed him the pyjamas he bought and he nodded approvingly.

            Ginny announced she was going to bed, but Draco kept on reading.  She went into the bedroom and looked around.  It wasn’t an overly-large room, but there was a lot of potential.  She knew she would have loads of fun decorating it.  The flat was _both of theirs_.  Draco had said that.  It gave her a warm feeling all over.  She didn’t feel sixteen.  She felt older.  Twenty ... maybe thirty years old.  She had been forced to grow up more quickly than most people her age.  She’d been possessed ... been in a battle between good and evil ... had her heart broken ... been kidnapped ... been ‘raped’ and ‘tortured’ and ‘killed’ ... and now she was living with the man she was in loved with, in Sicily, in a flat above a famous restaurant and pub.  This was the life of someone much older than sixteen.  That was how she knew the things she felt for Draco were real – a normal sixteen-year-old wouldn’t be able to feel things as deeply and truthfully as her.

            Climbing into bed, Ginny pulled the sheets up to her chin and sighed.  It felt good to be sleeping in a comfortable bed – a bed she could call her own.  Even though her body was aching for sleep, she couldn’t do it.  Her mind was filled with too many thoughts to sleep.  She pretended, though.  She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing.  She didn’t even move when Draco came into the room and got into bed next to her.  His body was warm against hers and he wrapped an arm around her middle, hugging her to him.

            ‘To answer your question from earlier,’ he whispered, ‘about how I feel ... I love you as well.’

            Ginny’s heart leapt, but she stayed silent.  She was sure Draco thought she was asleep, otherwise he’d never be able to say those words to her.  So she remained quiet and was able to quickly drift off to sleep after that, her mind strangely at ease.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

 


	11. Since 382 BC

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Eleven: Since 382 BC**

XXXXXXX

‘Did you get the paper?’ a soft voice asked from inside the flat.

Draco had just come back from buying food from a list Ginny gave him. She couldn’t have listed things from one store. No, Draco had to buy _special_ bread from the bakery and _special_ vegetables from the fruit and vegetable stand in the next town over, where the nearest wizard community in Sicily was. He did it, though, without complaining – all right, without _too_ much complaining – because when he told Ginny that he ‘cooked’ for himself for a week while she was incapacitated, he really meant that he took two pieces of bread and pre-sliced meat and made sandwiches. Although, towards the end of the week, he _did_ learn how to boil water for soup ... on the third try. It was hard doing things without magic or house-elves! 

Draco entered the flat and closed the front door behind him. Looking over at Ginny, he saw that she was seated on the sofa, her legs curled underneath her, a book open across her lap. Her hair was pulled back into two plaited pigtails. Draco thought she looked innocent and small with her hair like that, sitting on the big leather sofa.

‘Aye,’ he answered, locking the door. After he set the bags of food down by the front door, he crossed the room and tossed the paper on Ginny’s lap, on top of the book. It was the same book he finished last week. He sat at the other end of the sofa, facing her. ‘You’ll want to read the story on page three.’

Opening up the paper, Ginny nodded and her eyes began to move very quickly left to right. Draco knew what she was reading; he’d read it when he snuck into the wizard alley and snatched the paper from a newsstand. _Magia Quotidiane_ – the Magic Newspaper. He used a translation charm that Flitwick taught them at the beginning of seventh year so that he could read the Italian article in English. 

**The War in England Continues:**

**Is There Any End in Sight?**

Sofia Bambinelli, STAFF WRITER

_The war in England continues to rage on between Voldemort and both Muggles and Muggle-borns. His band of followers have upped their numbers of victims into the hundreds in the previous two weeks. The English Aurors are still looking for the murderer of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy; their first suspect is one Draco Malfoy, seventeen, who has been missing for a full month._

_Draco Malfoy disappeared at the same time as the youngest daughter of Ministry worker, Arthur Weasley. It has been rumoured that Ginevra Weasley, sixteen, and Malfoy shared a relationship, but whether she was kidnapped by him is still up for debate. ‘Malfoy is completely capable of kidnapping my sister,’ states Ronald Weasley, eighteen. ‘She would never have a relationship with Malfoy willingly, but, really, we just want to know that she’s still alive, especially Mum; she’s been cooking biscuits and muffins everyday for practically a month.’_

_Ginevra Weasley’s kidnapping is not an isolated incident. Since her disappearance it has been reported that two members of the Bones family as well as the entire Brocklehurst clan have gone missing. The Ministry Law-Enforcement Office says they have ‘no comment’ when asked by this reporter if they have any leads, but left behind in both families’ disappearances was the Dark Mark._

_Plans for the end of Voldemort? There does not seem to be any in sight. Will the legendary Harry Potter step up and end the war or will he continue to lurk in the shadows, unseen and unheard, like he has since Hogwarts was closed down? That question still remains unanswered._

Ginny looked up at Draco. ‘Well, you _did_ kind-of kidnap me, y’know.’

Draco smirked. ‘Right. You would have come willingly if you’d had the choice.’

‘I know. Don’t you think we should, I don’t know, go back and fight?’

‘Fight what?’

‘Fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Fight for the Order.’

‘You _do_ realise that if anyone finds out that we’re back in England they’ll come for us and kill us?’

‘I can’t just sit back and do nothing,’ said Ginny, an irritated look darkening her features. 

‘I don’t think you’ll have a choice,’ replied Draco, taking the paper back and flipping through it again. He spread the paper out on his lap, looking at the moving pictures from a prominent Italian wizard wedding, looking for any wizard he might recognise, as there were several international guests. ‘Doesn’t your stomach still hurt?’

‘Yes ... so?’

‘It’s going to always hurt,’ said Draco, still looking at the paper. ‘That’s the nature of Dark spells, y’know. I don’t think you’ll ever be able to fight again.’

‘Oh ...’

At Ginny’s desolate tone, Draco looked up. Her eyes looked glassy, as though she might cry. Draco hated it when she cried – he still had no idea what to do with crying girls. It was true, though – Dark spells always left scars, inside or out. Ginny’s just happened to be both. She’d never be able to fight against Voldemort. And Draco, he certainly wasn’t going to; it wasn’t his fight. 

‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘That’s the nature of Dark spells,’ he repeated.

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Ginny, looking away from Draco. ‘I know. I wish it didn’t have to be like that, though. I want to fight.’

‘I know you do, but there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.’

Draco watched, horrified, as tears dropped down Ginny’s cheeks. 

‘How long do you think we’re going to be here?’

‘You ask me that everyday. If you want to leave, leave.’

‘Draco, no. I don’t want to leave you, but I miss my family. Ron said in the paper that they’re worried about me. My mum’s been baking _loads_ of stuff – she doesn’t _bake_ unless someone is hurt or sad or had a bad day. With everything she does for the Order, she just doesn’t have time. Once, I fell out of a tree near our house and skinned up my knee so she made me chocolate biscuits. And now she’s making muffins and biscuits _everyday_ for Merlin’s sake!’

A few more tears fell down Ginny’s cheeks. She moved across the sofa and laid her head in Draco’s lap, breathing in deeply.

‘If the war ended tomorrow, would you go back to your family, or would you stay here with me?’ asked Draco, looking down at Ginny. She didn’t look back at him; instead she buried her face in his lap and circled her arms around his waist. That was _not_ an answer. ‘Ginny?’

‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled against his thigh. ‘Would you really stay here?’

‘I like it here. There’s nothing in England for me.’

‘Except me.’

Draco didn’t say anything. He figured nothing he could say would be right anyway.

‘Do you _really_ want to stay here?’

‘Yes. I like it here.’

‘In this small, crappy flat?’

Annoyed, Draco pushed Ginny off his lap and stood up. He crossed over to the door, where he set the bags down, and picked them up, going into the kitchen. Putting the food up in the cabinets, Draco said, ‘I like it here. If I bought a big house people would ask questions – why is there a teenager buying a mansion? This is fine here.’

‘Fine? You’re surrounded by Muggles!’

‘At least they leave me alone. If they found out who we were – be sure they’d stop being friendly. Besides, this isn’t a small, _crappy_ flat. All that shite you bought for the bedroom? That was expensive. You certainly didn’t hesitate to spend _my_ money on this _crappy_ flat.’

When he turned around and faced the living room, Ginny was sitting up, looking at her hands, large tears flowing from her eyes. He hated it when she cried, but he especially hated when _he_ was the reason for the tears.

‘I ...’ Could he really say he was sorry? ‘I don’t like it when you cry,’ he said instead.

‘Tough shit,’ said Ginny, sniffling. ‘You wouldn’t go back to England for me?’

‘No, I can’t. I’m the first suspect in the death of my parents. I’d be arrested.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘No, but I’m not going to take that risk either.’ Once Draco finished putting the food away, he walked back into the living area and sat down on the sofa. He reached for Ginny, but she slapped his hands away. ‘Don’t,’ he snapped, pulling her to him and holding her tightly against him. ‘Ginny, I ...’ He couldn’t say it. He could say it when she was asleep, but not when she was awake. ‘If I could go back to England with you, without worrying about being arrested, I would. But ... other than you, there’s nothing in England. All of Great Britain only reminds me of bad shite – Hogwarts, Death Eaters, my father. I don’t need to be reminded of any of that.’

Ginny relaxed against him, her head under his chin, her hair close enough to smell. He breathed in deeply, smelling the flowery scent he had come to associate with her, and closed his eyes. Part of him wanted the war to never end so Ginny would never leave him in Sicily alone. Sometimes she seemed so unhappy and other times she seemed all right – but never happy. She was not her old, happy, sarcastic self, where she challenged him when he was being stubborn. Now, when he was an arse she didn’t stomp her foot and tell him so; she only got angry. Part of him thought she was angry because he took her away from England, but he was only trying to save her life. He needed to find a way to make her turn back into the old Ginny.

‘Do you want to go out and get something to eat?’

‘But you just bought all that food.’

‘I know – but I don’t know how to actually _cook_. I bought the food for you.’

‘I know how to cook,’ said Ginny, ‘but I don’t really feel like cooking.’

‘So let’s go out.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Look, Gin, you’ve been in a shitty mood since you fully woke up a week ago. I don’t know how much more of it I can take.’

‘So don’t take it anymore.’

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t say that. Let’s go out, get something to eat, come back here and fuck.’ He felt her shake in his arms as she began to laugh. 

‘All right. I suppose I am a bit hungry.’

‘Good,’ said Draco. ‘Get your shoes.’

XXXXXXX

After dinner, Ginny wanted to walk around the village. She hadn’t seen it at night, with the couples sitting on their balconies, sipping on red wine, dancing in the moonlight. There was something infectious about the town, as though by simply being a part of it made you want to be romanced. Draco walked next to her, but he was still at least a foot away from her. 

‘I like it here,’ said Ginny. ‘It’s nothing like Ottery St Catchpole. It’s nice not having professors or parents setting silly rules like curfews. I’ve never been on my own before.’

‘I have. Whenever my parents go away together. At first you like it, but it stops being exciting fairly quickly.’

‘Whenever my parents left, there was always one of my brothers around. And they’re six of them and they _all_ think they can boss me around.’

 

‘No one can boss you around. That was one of the first things I learned about you.’

Ginny smiled and looked over at Draco. His hands were in the front pockets of his black trousers. He stood up straight, with perfect posture, his green jumper small enough to accentuate his thin body, but big enough not to cling to his skin. While every part of him looked put-together, from his black dragon skin boots to his wristwatch, a small bit of hair would not stay slicked back with the rest, and kept falling over his forehead. It was there, taunting Ginny to touch it, to move it out of his face so her hands could run through his blonde hair. 

‘What are you doing?’ asked Draco when she stopped walking.

Ginny continued to smile as she reached her hand up and brushed the offending hair off his forehead. Her hand moved to the back of his neck and she gripped it, pulling his face down towards her. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him. His tongue pried her lips apart before entering her mouth. It hit her, suddenly, that they were kissing in the middle of the street, in public. Anyone closing up shop or eating outside at the corner restaurant could see them. A surge of power went through her veins and she felt on fire. She could do this. _They_ could do this. There was no one around they knew to make them stop, to tell them this was forbidden, to remind them that Weasleys do not fall in love with Malfoys.

After a few seconds – or minutes, Ginny didn’t really know because time was always lost when they were kissing – Draco pulled away. Her skin burned where his hands had crept under her shirt and rested on her bare hips. 

‘You’re a good kisser,’ said Ginny.

‘I know,’ Draco replied with a completely serious tone to his voice.

‘Come on,’ said Ginny, ‘let’s go home.’ She took his hand and laced her fingers through his, knowing he never would have initiated it, but wanting to hold his hand nevertheless. His hand was stiff in hers, as though he had no idea how to react to this outward sign of affection. 

As they continued down the street, Ginny turned her head to look at Draco. He appeared to be chewing on the inside of his lower lip while the corners of his mouth twitched ... as if he was trying to keep himself from smiling. Ginny opened her mouth to tell him that it was okay to smile, but a man walked right into Draco, causing him to stumble slightly and let go of Ginny’s hand.

‘Watch it!’ snapped Draco, whirling around to look at the man.

Ginny stopped walking and braced herself. She did not want to break up a fight between Draco and some old, crabby-looking man.

‘Mmph,’ mumbled the man.

Ginny looked at him oddly. He looked familiar. The lines on his face were deep, as though they were storylines telling his age. His lips were thin and his hair white. The fingers on his hands were gnarled, but not from age, but as though they had been broken but not properly healed. Who would do such a thing? 

He was shabbily dressed, as though he had been wearing the same jumper and pair of trousers for several months. His shoes were scuffed and the soles were ripping from their bottoms. It seemed tragic that someone who looked as though he was fit to be somebody’s grandfather was wandering around the streets like a common beggar. 

The man walked away and Draco scowled after him.

Then, it hit her. She _did_ know the man. Pulling on the sleeve of Draco’s jumper, Ginny said, ‘Do you know who that is?’

‘That old crackpot? The town madman, I’d wager. Come on.’

But Ginny didn’t move. ‘No, he’s not from this town.’

‘How d’you know that?’ asked Draco, looking down at her.

‘You didn’t recognise him? He’s a wizard!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Wizards don’t walk around like that. They have wands to at least give themselves a good cleaning charm.’

‘I’m _not_ being ridiculous. You really don’t know who that is? He was a prominent enough wizard. Only he disappeared two years ago and no one’s heard of him since.’

‘Oh really? Well, then, pray tell: who was he?’

‘That was Mr Ollivander.’

XXXXXXX

All Draco really wanted to do was get Ginny starkers, but she kept wanting to _talk_. He had no interest in talking just at this minute. He’d suggested they move themselves from the sofa into the bedroom, but Ginny demurred. _Later_ , she’d said, but Draco was beginning to have his doubts. 

 

‘Wait – Draco – stop!’

‘ _What_?’ snapped Draco, removing his hands from Ginny’s shirt.

‘We’ll fool around later. But that was Mr Ollivander! There’s a reason why he’s here. Sicily only has two wizard communities and they’re both very small. Most Italian wizards live in Italy, not on this island. And besides that, he’s British and he’s been missing since the summer of ninety-six. That’s two years. Where’s he been all this time?’

‘Obviously in Sicily.’

Ginny smirked. ‘I think we need to go find him and talk to him, see where he’s been.’

‘Why? Who cares?’

‘ _I_ do. He sold me my wand. Nine inches, mahogany, with the hair from a unicorn.’ Ginny smiled. ‘I liked my wand. Before it got smashed and everything.’

‘It’s half one,’ said Draco, looking at his watch. ‘It’s a bit late to go traipsing off through town.’

Ginny took in a deep breath. ‘All right. Tomorrow? Promise?’

Draco nodded. ‘Yeah, sure, first thing in the morning.’

‘Thanks,’ she said with a small smile.

‘Can we go to bed now?’

Ginny shrugged, but didn’t move. Her fingers fiddled with the bottom of her t-shirt. She obviously had no interest in doing anything that normal couples did in the bedroom, which was beginning to really annoy Draco.

‘Do you remember when my father performed Legilimency on you?’ Instead of answering, Ginny just looked at him with wide eyes. ‘And you pushed him out before he could get too far, but he said he saw you and Potter – and that you looked like a right slut.’

Ginny looked away and let out an audible breath. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What did he see, Ginny?’

‘ _I don’t know_.’

‘Yes you do. Whatever he saw, it’s more than you’re doing with me right now.’

Ginny swallowed. ‘I’m sorry. I _want_ to do those things with you—’

‘What are “those things”?’

‘ _Draco_ – that’s none of your business.’

He didn’t care. He was tired of waiting around – of living with someone who would kiss him and hug him, but didn’t want to be touched by him. His eyes looked at her; he was not planning on backing down.

‘He saw me and Harry fooling around,’ she finally answered, after almost a minute’s worth of silence.

‘Doing what?’

‘Don’t make me say it.’

‘Whatever, Gin, I’m not playing your games anymore. You don’t let me touch you, but you certainly touched _Potter_. Maybe you _should_ go back to England. He’s there.’

‘No! Draco, no! I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you. I don’t feel like that about Harry any longer. He’s not part of my life the way you are. He’ll always be a very, very good friend, but I’m in love with you. You know that, right? And I want you to touch me, I do, I promise.’ Ginny scooted next to Draco and put her arms around his chest and leaned against him. ‘Your father just saw the day I gave Harry a ... when I sucked ...’

‘I don’t want details.’

‘It’s what I did to you when we were in the shower at your house,’ said Ginny, blushing deeply. ‘But your father saw the only time I did it with Harry and he back to me. It was a moment after we broke up – we tried fooling around that summer a few times, but none of the attempts really worked. We couldn’t be physical without all our emotions going mad, so we stopped.’

Draco didn’t want to think about Ginny doing anything with Potter. The thought was sickening. She kissed him then, and all thoughts of Potter were pushed out of his head.

‘Still want to go to bed?’ she asked between kisses.

‘ _Please_ ,’ said Draco, standing up. He pulled Ginny up so that she was standing, picked her up around the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder. The laugh that came from Ginny’s throat reverberated through Draco’s body and he walked down the hallway, holding onto Ginny’s legs and her hip dug into his shoulder. He dropped her, albeit softly, onto the bed. 

Ginny sat up and untied her shoes. ‘Where’s that t-shirt I always wear to bed?’

Draco walked to the wardrobe and picked up the extra-large black t-shirt from the bottom. He tossed it on the bed. Ginny dropped her shoes on the floor and moved to remove her socks, but Draco stopped her. Running his hand up her calf, he massaged the skin slightly before pulling her sock off and letting it fall off his fingertips to the floor. He did the same to the other sock before moving his hands up to the buckle of her belt. 

‘Going to get me dressed for bed?’

Shaking his head, Draco said, ‘Getting you undressed for bed.’ He drew the zipper of her jeans down and put his hands inside, feeling the fabric of her knickers against his skin. The blue Muggle denim felt as though it was sticking to her skin as he tried to pull them off her. Once they were finally gone, Draco looked at the bright red colour of her knickers and the thin band that practically cut into her hips.

‘God I’m glad I bought you those.’

When Draco dragged his eyes from the tops of her thighs he saw that her cheeks were the same red colour as her knickers. Her hair was still pulled back in those two adorable plaits and it gave him a perfect view of her freckled face. Every time he looked at her, it was a bit of a shock; he could hardly believe that he was here with a _Weasley_.

Ginny sat up and pushed him off her just a bit. She reached and grabbed hold of his jumper. Draco lazily put up his arms so she could pull it over his head. Her fingers ran down his chest, stopping at the small patch of hair above his navel, so fair that it blended in with his skin, making it almost invisible. The button and zipper of his black trousers were quickly undone and with a swift tug of the waistband of both his trousers and his boxers, both the garments were shed, leaving Draco completely starkers while Ginny still had on her shirt and knickers. 

Deciding that was completely unfair, Draco quickly removed Ginny’s t-shirt and bra. Her hands flew to her stomach, covering her scar. 

‘Quit doing that,’ said Draco, taking her hands and holding her by the wrists above her head. With his other hand, he reached down and touched the scar, feeling uneven skin under the pads of his fingers. ‘It’s not that bad.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t ...’

‘Why? You’ve let me touch you everywhere else,’ he said, releasing her hands. 

‘It’s ugly.’

‘Is it?’ he asked, pulling back on his knees and leaning down to kiss the disfigured skin. He could feel Ginny’s body relax after that and he moved back up to kiss her neck.

Ginny kissed his shoulder and he felt her sucking on the skin there. Her hands splayed out across his back, heat surging from her touch, going straight into his groin.

His fingers travelled down her stomach and underneath her knickers. More heat rushed into his groin as he touched her there, warmth radiating into his palm.

‘You can take them off,’ Ginny said breathily in his ear.

Draco stopped. Had he heard her right? Take them – take them _off_? She’d been up and well for over a week and had told him to stop every time. He thought she didn’t want to have sex with him anymore. Her reason was always that her stomach hurt, but that excuse had already grown old. But now ...

‘Did you hear me?’ asked Ginny, putting her hand underneath Draco’s chin and lifting his head so that he was forced to look her in the eye.

‘You haven’t let me all week.’

‘I know,’ said Ginny. ‘I was scared.’ She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and bit on it.

‘Of what?’

‘I don’t know. Everything about the first time was all so fast. I remember it, but it wasn’t that fairy tale first time a girl dreams about. Then, I lost a month of time. I was just scared. Sex feels like it should be a huge step, one that should be done when you’re in love, and the first time ... I don’t know if it felt right. But now I’m sure I love you.’

Draco raised his eyebrows in response.

‘I want to do this,’ assured Ginny. 

Her lips were soft when he bent down to kiss her. He thought she was going to stop him again when she put her palms against his chest and pushed. Before Draco realised what was happening, he was on his back and Ginny was kneeling over him. She took off her knickers and straddled his waist. 

Her lips slid over her teeth in an easy smile. ‘Ready?’

XXXXXXX

It took Ginny almost an hour to fall asleep. She turned over on her side, her back to Draco, and closed her eyes. Her breathing was steady, but she couldn’t shut her mind off. After close to an hour, Draco whispered he loved her before settling down in a restless sleep himself. It was only the second time she’d heard it, but she suspected he said it every night once he thought she’d fallen asleep. Ginny never realised what it would feel like to sleep next to Draco. Usually, he put his arm loosely around her waist until she fell asleep. After that, she wasn’t sure, but she’d woken up three times because of his restlessness. He’d turn over every few minutes, rub his legs together, and grunt. A small child might thrash around when having a nightmare, but Draco was just jittery and fidgety. He told her he had nightmares about seeing his father rape, torture, and kill that family, but Ginny never imagined he’d have the dreams so often.

Tonight, though, it was Ginny who had the bad dream. She’d had a couple before, mild ones, about being in the Muggle hospital in France. 

In the dream, she was sleeping on sheets soaked in sweat and tears. The room was blurry whenever she opened her eyes, and the lights played tricks on her. Sometimes the nurses would look as though they were drenched in purples or blues; other times they’d look as though there were two of them. 

The sounds of the hospital would echo inside Ginny’s ears, bouncing around inside her head, giving her a headache. It felt as if the sounds were banging against her forehead, causing a throbbing sensation behind her eyes.

And then her stomach ... The pain there was more intense than any pain Ginny had ever felt before. Her muscles would clench around the wound, causing a burning sensation across her belly. 

The worst part was that in the dreams, Draco was never there. Nurses and doctors would come in with plastic tubes with needles on the end and stick them into her arms. She’d ask for water and they would give her spoonfuls of ice that she ended up always choking on. Then, she’d ask for _him_ and he’d never be there.

What woke her up tonight was a dream about the nurses, coming in with those needles, sticking her arms as she cried out for him.

‘You’re shaking.’

Ginny turned her head around and looked at Draco. He was naked beside her, looking tired and worn.

‘I’m cold,’ she replied, turning back towards the wall.

Draco reached down for the blanket at the end of the bed and pulled it up.

‘Thanks.’

He didn’t reply, only lay back down next to her and closed his eyes. ‘Bad dream?’

‘Yeah.’

‘About what?’

‘The hospital in France.’ Ginny shifted and brought her knees up to her chest and held the blanket tight in her fists, just under her chin. The room was silent for a while after that, but Ginny knew Draco wasn’t asleep.

‘Why are you dreaming about that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘It sounded as though you were having a nightmare.’

‘I was.’

‘Well, then, tell me what happened,’ said Draco, but not without letting out a big yawn.

‘I think I was so sick I was hallucinating. The nurses were all different colours and my vision was double and they kept sticking me with needles and putting stuff in my veins that burned.’ Ginny paused. ‘And I asked for you, but you weren’t there.’

‘When you had the fever? No, I wasn’t.’

Ginny suddenly felt irrationally angry. ‘Why weren’t you there? I asked for you, but they said you’d gone away. How could you just leave me there all alone?’

The bed shifted and moved; Ginny knew Draco was now sitting up behind her. He cleared his throat and began, ‘They wouldn’t let me see you.’ Ginny didn’t believe him. ‘I tried to get in your room,’ he continued, ‘but I wasn’t allowed. The police thought I had something to do with your injuries and wanted to arrest me. That’s why you were sick _here_ for so long. I had to take you from the hospital early, late at night, when no one would see me. They weren’t going to allow you to leave with me. I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘So you left me all alone.’

‘Ginny, it wasn’t as though ...’

‘As though, what?’

‘As though I didn’t _care_ about you or what was happening to you, but instead of sitting around bitching about it, I came here and found a flat and did something useful until you were well enough that I knew you weren’t going to _die_ if I took you.’

Ginny didn’t know what to say. She felt Draco shift again and lay back down beside her. It sounded plausible; she only wished she could remember more – like the police coming to question _her_ about what had happened. No telling what she told them in her state of delirium. 

‘Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Ginny, hugging her knees more tightly to her chest. ‘The dreams were so disturbing and it felt as though I was actually being hurt. It kinda makes me scared to go back to sleep.’

‘Mmm,’ hummed Draco in her ear as he moved closer to her, pressing himself alongside her. She could feel his chest against her back as he breathed and his semi-hard erection against her bum. Somehow she knew that no matter how hard he was, he wasn’t going to try and make a move. The way he stroked her stomach, rubbing small circles into her flesh, made her realise he wanted her to go back to sleep. Each gesture was comforting and soon Ginny found herself drifting off.

XXXXXXX

‘It’s fucking four o’clock, for Salazar’s sake, Gin! How much longer do you expect to look?’

‘Wha—?’

‘ _Four o’clock_ ,’ snapped Draco. ‘We’ve been walking around for five hours. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I’m sick of looking for some old geezer.’

‘Draco,’ said Ginny, putting her hands on her hips, ‘if you want to go back then do it. Otherwise, shut it!’

Draco could hardly help but smile at her, in her jeans jacket and tight red t-shirt that had crept up, exposing her midriff. She looked so put-out, hands on her hips, and it was adorable. 

‘All right,’ he assented. ‘One more hour, then we’re going home.’

Ginny flashed him a bright, toothy grin. ‘Good. Let’s go to that alley behind the furniture shop.’

The sounds of her trainers padding against the stone road filled the still air as Ginny led the way towards the furniture store. She’d been in there twice with Draco, pointing towards furniture, paintings and accessories she liked. 

The alley behind the store was filled with empty cardboard boxes, discarded Styrofoam wrap, and the potent smell of three-day-old garbage mixed with ... with ...

‘Cats,’ said Ginny, making a face. ‘Gross.’

‘Don’t like cats, then?’

‘Ever since Mrs Norris saw me and Dean snogging in a corridor and went to fetch Filch, I haven’t been a fan of cats.’

‘Look, he’s not here. We’ve been in every alley, in and out of every store. I don’t know where you expect to find him.’

‘His clothes were tattered,’ said Ginny. ‘He looked poor, maybe homeless.’

‘You realise that if we find him and he _tells_ anyone we’re here, we could be killed.’

‘Mr Ollivander’s not going to tell anyone. He’s a good wizard.’

Draco shrugged. ‘If you say so. I still brought my wand, just in case.’

‘I didn’t think you wanted to do magic here,’ said Ginny offhandedly. ‘Risking getting caught and all that.’

‘I’ll risk it to keep myself alive. Let’s go back home.’

Ginny sighed and Draco knew she was going to finally consent. She turned around and looked towards the back door of the furniture shop, but she wasn’t moving towards the street. Draco watched her shoulders move up and down as she breathed in deeply. Her hands moved into her hair, combing it back and pulling it into a ponytail, tying it with a green tie. 

‘Perhaps it wasn’t Ollivander at all,’ said Draco.

‘It was,’ answered Ginny without turning around. ‘I know it was. He’s been missing for ages and no one’s been able to get a decent wand for two years. There’s a reason he’s been gone.’

‘I’m sure the reason is a good one, but he’s not around. Let’s just go back home—’

‘No,’ said Ginny. ‘ _You_ go back home, but I’m still looking.’ 

At this, she began to walk towards the front of the store. Draco followed her, watching the way her backside looked as she walked, her jeans hugging her hips in a very arousing way. It made him think of last night, the way her hips moved against him. It surprised him that she wanted to do it, wanted him, since she’d refused for so many days. The thoughts that ran through his head had almost made him go mad. He thought she didn’t want to be with him again because she regretted the first time; the stomach excuse seemed so feeble.

Things last night weren’t awkward as they had been the first time. Even though they’d only actually done it one other time, they seemed to be more comfortable, and while neither of them were experts on sex, the things they did were done well, if Draco did say so himself. It felt amazing, but the embarrassing part was that right after she asked him if he was ready, he had to stop her, to tell that he could come inside her. She wasn’t on any sort of contraceptive potion and the last thing they needed was a baby. 

Instead, Draco told her he found a Muggle device they could use instead, if she didn’t want to risk him accidentally coming. Amazingly enough, Ginny had heard of condoms – _Hermione told me about them_ , she’d said. 

Draco smiled slightly to himself at the memories of last night, but he couldn’t think of them too much because Ginny was almost out of sight. He jogged towards her and stopped where she had stopped on the sidewalk.

‘What’s wrong?’

She pointed. ‘There he is,’ she said.

Draco looked across the street. Sitting on the steps in front of the village’s used bookstore was Ollivander. Before Draco could object, Ginny had taken off across the road, stopping slightly to let a taxi pass before continuing on. He went after her, not trusting Ginny’s instinct that Ollivander was a good wizard.

‘Mr Ollivander!’ called Ginny, stopping in front of the old man.

Draco caught up to her and looked at Ollivander. He had eerie-looking moonlike eyes that sent a chill down to the base of Draco’s spine.

Ollivander looked at Ginny, his eyes squinting up at her. ‘Ginny Weasley, I remember you.’

‘Yes,’ breathed Ginny, looking smugly at Draco. ‘I knew it was you when you bumped into Draco yesterday.

Ollivander’s gaze shifted to Draco. ‘What are _you_ doing in a Muggle town, Mr Malfoy? Thirteen and a half inches. Ash. Dragon’s heartstring. I remember, you came in with your mother. She fretted over you the entire time. How is she?’

‘She’s dead.’

‘That’s too bad. The Dark Lord finally get to her?’

Draco didn’t answer. _The Dark Lord_. Only Death Eaters called Voldemort the Dark Lord. Draco found himself trusting Ginny’s intuition even less.

‘What are you doing here, Mr Ollivander?’ asked Ginny. ‘There were loads of articles written in the _Daily Prophet_ about your disappearance.’

Ollivander sighed and closed his eyes. ‘I’m old, girl, I do not have time to talk about the past.’

Draco snorted. ‘Looks like you have all the time in the world. You’re not working, are you?’

Ollivander’s eyes snapped open. He held up two gnarled hands. ‘Does it look like I can work? With these hands? They’re useless!’

‘What happened?’ whispered Ginny.

Ollivander didn’t answer right away. He looked down the street on either side; they were relatively empty. 

‘Please, tell us,’ Ginny pleaded. ‘The wizarding world was worried about you. Did Death Eaters kidnap you? Please, answer, Mr Ollivander.’

The old man smiled, but it was a chilling smile and looked cold and dangerous. ‘You are a silly little girl. Why are you in Sicily?’

‘Running from Death Eaters,’ said Draco, sticking his hands in his pockets and feeling his wand there. ‘You?’

‘Visiting relatives. The Ollivander family is scattered all over Europe. I was just over in Romania with my brother. He collects the dragons’ heartstrings for the wands. My cousin is in Germany, the Black Forest – good wood there. I have a cousin here ... makes jewelled wand cases.’

‘You look as if you’ve been on the streets for a while,’ observed Draco.

‘Yes, well, that happens.’

‘Did your cousin kick you out?’

Ollivander sneered. ‘ _Yes_.’

‘That’s awful! How come?’

Looking rather murderous, Ollivander lifted up the sleeve of his tattered jumper, revealing a magical tattoo of a skull and snake. Ginny gasped and took a step back; Draco looked at the mark in amazement. 

‘You’re a – a – Death Eater!’ cried Ginny.

‘Seems a good explanation why neither his shop nor house was in shambles when he disappeared,’ said Draco, looking at Ollivander. ‘You went willingly, then, didn’t you?’

‘Death Eaters came and told me I needed to leave with them. I didn’t put up a fight.’

‘I would have fought like hell!’ cried Ginny.

‘When the Dark Lord wants a wand especially made for him, you don’t object. The Ollivanders haven’t been making wands since 382 BC for nothing.’

‘You couldn’t have made it from your shop?’ asked Ginny.

‘I made over thirty wands before he found the one he liked best.’

‘He didn’t already have a wand?’ asked Draco, a bit confused.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Ollivander. ‘The Dark Lord’s wand was brothers with Harry Potter’s wand. They shared a feather from the same phoenix and therefore cannot work against each other. The Dark Lord would never be able to properly duel Potter.’

Ginny looked horrified. ‘You made him new wand so he can kill Harry?’

‘And then he broke my fingers so I could never make another wand again – just in case I got the inkling to make Potter a new wand. He’s going to do great things, the Dark Lord, with his new wand. So, he doesn’t know the two of you are here, does he?’

The horrified look on Ginny’s face intensified.

‘Hopefully the Dark Lord won’t catch wind of where the youngest Malfoy is.’ Ollivander smiled that cold smile again.

‘Ginny,’ said Draco, ‘go home.’

‘ _What_?’

Draco looked at her. ‘Go home. Now.’

‘But I don’t want—’

‘Just do it!’ he shouted loudly.

Ginny, looking confused and hurt, turned and walked down the street. She looked over her shoulder once at Draco before taking off at a run towards their flat.

XXXXXXX

‘We _have_ to tell Harry!’ cried Ginny the moment the front door opened and Draco walked inside. She didn’t care to ask what Draco had done to Mr Ollivander once she was out of sight.

‘What are you on about?’

‘Harry has to know that Voldemort has a new wand! We have to warn him!’

‘How do you expect to do that?’ asked Draco, going into the kitchen and getting a wine glass from the cabinet. 

‘Going with you to the wizarding alley and owling him. We’ll use a public owl. No one will know it’s from us. We’ll tell him we’re fine, that we’re travelling around, and we’ll tell him what Mr Ollivander told us!’

Draco poured himself a glass of cabernet. He looked thoughtful.

‘Draco, please!’ Tears sprang in her eyes. 

‘He won’t be battling the Dark Lord until the last Horcrux is found.’

Ginny’s mouth gaped open. ‘The last Horcrux? How the _hell_ do you know about those?’

Draco shrugged. ‘I know a lot of things, Ginny. We can’t risk _our_ lives by sending an owl to Potter.’

‘It’s not just _our_ lives! If Voldemort kills Harry, the entire world – wizards and Muggles – is at stake. Don’t you care about that at all?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Well, _I_ do!’ Ginny yelled. ‘If you’re not going to owl Harry, then I will!’

Draco put his glass down on the kitchen table and crossed over to Ginny. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ he snarled.

‘I’m not being stupid!’ cried Ginny. ‘Please, Draco! 

He sighed and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘You’d be risking your life.’

‘I don’t care!’

‘Well, _I_ care. You’re _not_ dying on my watch.’

‘Draco, please. Please! I have to warn him. Harry has to know! What if he’s already found the last Horcrux? He could be planning on going to find Voldemort as we speak!’

‘I doubt it,’ said Draco, dropping his hands.

‘Why’s that? Harry has Ron and Hermione helping him. They’re dedicated. They won’t stop looking until they’re all found, y’know. I bet he’s already destroyed them all.’

‘He hasn’t,’ sighed Draco.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because,’ said Draco, going back to the kitchen and downing the last of his wine in one large gulp, ‘I think I have the last Horcrux here ... with us.’

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued ...

XXXXXXX 


	12. And Three Hands Pointed to Lost

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Twelve: And Three Hands Pointed to Lost**

XXXXXXX

            ‘You think the last Horcrux is _where_?’

            ‘Here,’ said Draco, picking up the wine bottle again and pouring another glass.  ‘Want one?’

            ‘ _No_ , I don’t want one.  This is no time to get drunk off wine, Draco!  How can you just have a Horcrux?’

            Draco took a sip of the expensive cabernet and looked at Ginny, his blue-grey eyes darker than Ginny ever remembered seeing them.  ‘Because my father entrusted me with it.  I didn’t know what it was.  I thought it was expensive so my father didn’t want the Ministry to take it.  Snape told me what Horcruxes were and that the last one that needed to be found was Hufflepuff’s cup.’

            Ginny nodded.  ‘You have to send the cup to Harry so he can destroy it.’

            ‘No.’

            ‘ _NO_?’ shrieked Ginny.  ‘Why not?!’

            ‘Because then the war will be over.’

            She could not believe her ears.  ‘You think you can just keep the cup here with us, then you have another think coming!’

            Draco finished his second glass of wine.  ‘This is fairly good wine, but I’ve always liked scotch better.  Haven’t been able to find a good brand I like here, though.’

            ‘Don’t change the subject.  We have to tell Harry about all this!’

            ‘Leave it to you to only think about your precious Potter.’

            ‘I’m not only thinking about Pott – about Harry.  I’m thinking about the entire wizarding world, about Hermione and all the Muggle-borns, and my family and all the other “blood traitors”.  _Draco, this isn’t about you_.  This is about stopping a _war_ and that can’t happen if Harry doesn’t know about Voldemort’s new wand or without destroying the final Horcrux.’

            Draco slammed his wine glass down.  ‘Fine.  You go contact Harry and your family, let them know what’s going on.  And when they come looking for you, you can go back with them and be killed.  See if I fucking care.’

            ‘ _Fine_ , I will!’ screamed Ginny, going to the front door and picking up her shoes where she’d left them just inside door.  She stuffed her feet inside them and reached for the doorknob when Draco shouted behind her, ‘ _Colloportus!_ ’  

            Draco just sealed the door.  She couldn’t believe it.

            ‘I didn’t think you wanted to use magic!’

            ‘To keep you from leaving I will!’

            Ginny stomped over to him and tried to grab his wand from his hand, but he held it up high over his head; she was too short to jump up and take it.  After several attempts, Ginny gave up and put her hands on her hips, giving Draco the deadliest look she could muster.  He still held the wand above his head.  Her anger kept rising – she wanted to warn Harry – she _needed_ to warn Harry.  The anger flowed around in her head, building, until she snapped and lunged at Draco, knocking them both backwards onto the floor.  With a crash, the wine glass fell and red liquid flew across the floor.  

            ‘ _Fuck_!’ Draco cried.

            Ginny struggled against him, trying to grab his wand so she could open the door and escape their flat, but he was too strong for her.  His large hands were able to take both of hers in one of his and keep her from getting his wand.  She felt her body flip over and Draco’s weight covered her.  The sound of wood hitting the cement floor reverberated in her ears as he threw his wand away. 

            ‘Get off me!’

            ‘No.’

            ‘I said, _get off me_!’

            ‘ _No_ ,’ Draco replied more firmly, not moving.  

            ‘Why won’t you let me go?’

            ‘You don’t even know where the wizarding town is.’

            ‘I’ll find it.’

            ‘How?  You don’t speak the language.  You can’t drive.  You can’t walk fifteen kilometres.’

            ‘I’ll figure something out.’

            Draco rolled his eyes.

            His breath was evening out so Ginny took this chance to try to push him off, but he didn’t budge.  

            ‘ _Move_.’

            ‘You are _not_ getting out of this flat, d’you hear me?’

            ‘Why not?  Oh, right, you don’t want the war to end.  That’s a shite reason, Draco, a totally shite reason.’

            ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

            ‘Try me.’

            With a loud groan, Draco said, ‘Don’t you know what the end of the war means?’

            ‘Freedom?  Having Muggle-borns not have to worry about their lives?’

            ‘No.  It means you’re going back to England.’

            Ginny swallowed.  ‘Well, I’d want to see my family, you great sod.’

            ‘And you’d move back to that shack you call a house with all the other Weasels and Potty,’ snarled Draco, moving off Ginny.  He stood and picked his wand up off the floor and pointed it at the door, undoing the spell.  

            The floor was hard underneath her and Ginny lay there, feeling confused.  Finally, she got up and walked down the hallway into the bedroom.  Standing in the doorway, she watched Draco.  His hands were behind his head as his eyes focused on the ceiling, his jaw clenched.  It should have occurred to her that Draco wouldn’t want her to leave; he’d told her as much.  Somehow, though, she hadn’t thought about it tonight.

            ‘Draco ...’

            He didn’t move, only blinked, still looking at the blank ceiling.

            ‘The end of the war doesn’t mean the end of us.’

            ‘Don’t be stupid, Ginny.  You’ll go home to your family and they’ll forbid you to see me.  And I’m staying here.  I’m not going back to Wiltshire.’

            ‘Maybe I’ll stay here with you.’

            ‘Don’t lie to me,’ said Draco, turning over on his stomach.  ‘We both know that’s complete bollocks.’

            ‘I don’t want to leave you, but I’ll have to go visit my family.  I can’t ignore them, pretend they don’t exist.  They love me and I love them.’  Ginny entered the room and sat down next to Draco on the bed.  ‘Don’t act like a brat.  When the war ends, I’ll go back to England for a while, to see my family, but I promise I won’t stop talking to you.  If you love me, you’ll let me go.’

            ‘The door’s open, so if you want to _leave_ , be my guest.’

            ‘I don’t want to leave – I want you to _let_ me go.  I want you to come with me to the part of the city that’s magical and help me send an owl and I want you to let me go back to England to see my family when the war is over without getting angry.  If you loved me—’

            ‘Well, I don’t love you.  I’d rather you stay here.’

            ‘Don’t say that; it’s not true!’ cried Ginny, tears prickling her eyes.  She wished she’d stop crying.  She’d cried so much lately that she was surprised she even had any tears left.  

            ‘It _is_ true, so why don’t you go owl your precious Potter – the door’s open.’

            ‘It is _not_ true!’

            ‘Face it, Gin,’ said Draco, turning over and standing up, ‘I’m just not in love with you.’

            ‘I don’t know why you’re saying that,’ said Ginny, feeling a bit hysterical.  ‘I’ve _heard_ you!  I’ve heard you say you love me!’

            Draco’s body seemed to freeze.  His brow furrowed, his nostrils flared, and his hands balled themselves into fists.  ‘You’re lying.’

            

            ‘No, I’m not.  I’ve been having trouble falling asleep, but I pretend, and I’ve heard you say it when you think I’m sleeping.  You love me – why are you lying to me?’  She said it all very softly, standing up and walking over to where Draco stood in front of the wardrobe.  She reached for him, but he pulled away.  ‘Don’t do this!  If your mother was still alive you’d want to go back to England and see her, wouldn’t you?  Can’t you understand that I want to go see my mum?  They’re my _family_ , Draco, and I love them.  But I also love you.’

            ‘You love them more.’

            ‘I love them differently.  And I want them alive every bit as much as I want you alive,’ said Ginny, reaching out to touch Draco again.  He tried to pull away once more, but Ginny held firmly on to his hand.  ‘I just – I just need to protect my family, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you any less.  When the war ends I’m not going to stop loving you – just like you’re not going to stop loving me.’

            ‘I don’t—’

            ‘If you don’t stop lying to me, I’m going to punch you in the mouth.  Admit it!’ 

            Draco took two steps backwards and bumped into the wardrobe.  Ginny put her arms around him; he tried to fight her off, but she wouldn’t let him.  She pulled him into a hug, hoping it would calm him down.  She might have been the irrational one a few moments before, but now _he_ was being irrational.  Why was admitting that he said he loved her so fucking hard?

            ‘I get it,’ she said.  ‘I understand.’

            ‘You don’t understand anything.’

            He might have said it nastily, but at least he wasn’t fighting her.  Ginny was grateful for that.  Her arms gripped him more tightly as she said, ‘When you were eleven you asked Harry to be your friend and he refused.  Daphne chose Blaise instead of you.  Your father tried to kill you.  And you think I’m like them, that I don’t want you, that I’ll no longer want you when the war is over.’

            ‘No, I don’t.’

            ‘Yes, you do,’ said Ginny firmly.  ‘Why else would you be acting like this?  It’s okay to love someone, Draco.  It doesn’t make you weak or a fool or anything like that.  I understand because I’ve felt the same way my entire life.  My brothers didn’t interact with me much when we were little because I was the youngest and I was a girl.  They’d never let me play Quidditch or Exploding Snap.  Well, Ron played with me some because he was only a year older, but once we got to Hogwarts he ignored me for the most part.  I had a crush on Harry and he didn’t like me back for six years – and then he dumped me.  I know what it feels like not to be wanted.  But _I want you_.  I don’t know how many times I can say it.’

            Draco’s body relaxed in her arms; the rigidness melted away.

            ‘I’ve heard you say you love me.  Are you still denying it?’

            ‘No.’

            Ginny’s heart practically stopped.  ‘Are you admitting it?’

            ‘Yes.’

XXXXXXX

            When she threw her arms around him Draco wanted to vomit.  How could he tell her that she shouldn’t love him?  That it would only prove to hurt her in the end?  She wanted to go back to England and he couldn’t follow her.  He _wouldn’t_ follow her.  There was nothing in England for him.  He had the Dark Mark on his arm – surely if the war was over all the Death Eaters would be gathered up and sent to Azkaban.  Having Aurors come looking for him, to question him about kidnapping Ginny Weasley, seemed likely.

            ‘I’ve heard you say you love me.  Are you still denying it?’

            ‘No,’ he said, wanting to die.  She _heard_ him say it.  He should have been more careful, but the words just flew out of his mouth the first time he said it and somehow he always felt better, letting her know how he felt, even if he did think she was asleep.

            ‘Are you admitting it?’

            Draco swallowed.  God, was this what it felt like to admit you loved someone?  No wonder he tried so hard to suppress his emotions.  This hurt his chest and his stomach knotted itself.  

            ‘Yes,’ he said finally, and Ginny pulled out of the hug and looked up at him, her chocolate eyes practically beaming.  Since his father hit her with that Dark spell, Ginny hadn’t been the same.  She wasn’t her old self – but the expression at her face when he said ‘yes’ looked like the old Ginny.  For the first time, she almost seemed happy.  Her eyes lit up and her mouth spread out in a wide grin.

            ‘Really?’ she breathed.

            He manoeuvred himself out of her grasp and made his way to the bed.  It sank slightly underneath his weight as he flopped down on it, his face buried in his pillow.  

            ‘Don’t act so ashamed,’ said Ginny.  He felt the mattress shift as she sat down beside him.  Then, her hands ran up his back and settled on his shoulders and the point of her chin dug slightly into his shoulder as she said in his ear, ‘Doesn’t it feel nice to love someone?’

            Draco turned his head to the side so that he could speak.  ‘No.  It feels like rubbish.’

            ‘Liar,’ she giggled.  ‘Don’t you feel good knowing that I love you?’

            He did, _of course_ he did, but he wasn’t about to tell her.  He’d already revealed enough tonight; he wasn’t about to make himself feel any more vulnerable.  ‘Mmm,’ he hummed in response.

            ‘Well, you admitting that you love me makes me feel like that as well.  It makes me feel good.’

            Ginny began to pull on him, as though she wanted him to turn over on his back, so he complied and looked up into her face.  She took her hair out of her ponytail and let it fall around her face and shoulders.  His fingers ached to run through her red mane.  

            ‘I could tell, though.’

            ‘What?’

            ‘I could tell that you loved me,’ said Ginny, ‘even though you never said it.’

            ‘So why the fuck did you make me admit it?’

            ‘Because sometimes a girl just needs to hear the words,’ said Ginny.

            ‘Did Potty ever say that to you?’

            Ginny shook her head.  ‘No.’

            ‘Did you ever say it to him?’

            She shook her head again.  ‘No.’

            ‘No?  You kept quiet on that, then?’

            ‘Yes.  I’m glad I did because we ended up breaking things off.’

            Draco smiled.  Not only had he been able to bed Ginny when Potter hadn’t, but she also said the ‘love’ word to him and not Potter.  That thought alone improved his mood.  But he couldn’t help but confess to himself that he _did_ feel better having told Ginny that he loved her.  It seemed to take pressure off him, as though a large weight had come off his shoulders; his whole body felt lighter.

            That still didn’t solve the problem of her wanting to tell Harry about Ollivander and the Horcrux.  It would surely bring about the end of the war and then he’d lose her forever.  When they first started this, he made her promise that she wouldn’t try and change him, but in the end, she hadn’t needed to – he changed anyway.  He never would have been capable of admitting that he loved anyone had it not been for her.  And he never would have loathed the idea of her leaving him if she hadn’t awakened hidden emotions inside him.  He wanted her around for always. 

            ‘If you’re going to warn Harry, you better do it before I seal the door again.’

            ‘Draco, I wish you would try and understand ...’  Ginny sighed.  ‘I won’t owl him unless you tell me it’s all right – but if you love me, you’ll let me do it because you know how important it is to me.’

            Draco groaned.  She was manipulating him and he knew it!

            ‘All right,’ he said, not wanting to fight anymore.  ‘I’ll take you tomorrow, okay?  We’ll get a public owl and we’ll send it to Potter.’

            ‘Thank you!’ squealed Ginny, wrapping her arms around his neck.  ‘And the war probably won’t be over for a while anyway.  It could take weeks or months.  If you think you’re going to lose me to my family and England, you still have a while before that’ll happen, I’m sure of it.  But how will we write a letter to Harry without risking it getting caught?  And what about the Horcrux?  Do we just send that to him as well?’

            ‘No,’ said Draco.  ‘We’ll write him a letter with the ink and quill I bought at Scrivenshaft’s.  I’m assuming your family took your things from Hogwarts when the school was shut down.’

            ‘Yes,’ said Ginny, ‘I’m sure they did, and my ink and quill was in my trunk.’

            ‘Good.  We’ll use my ink to write to Harry, and then on a regular bit of parchment with normal ink, we’ll explain where to look for it and how to reveal the message.  Even if the owl falls into wrong hands, the letter will be intended for Harry so he’ll be the only one who is able to read it.’

            ‘I showed Hermione one of your letters once, just to see what she saw, and she said it looked like gibberish.’

            ‘Good,’ said Draco, ‘that’s what it _should_ look like.’

            ‘What about the Horcrux?’

            ‘If he wants it, he can send a letter back with the owl, but if anyone tries to charm the letter to locate it, we’ll know it and we’ll move away before they ever get to us.’

            Ginny nodded.  ‘Thank you.’

            A yawn invaded Draco’s mouth and he covered it with the back of his hand.  ‘I need a nap.’

            ‘Think you can fall asleep?’

            He nodded.  ‘Yeah, I think so.  I feel exhausted.  I didn’t sleep well last night.’

            ‘Here,’ said Ginny, ‘let me help you with those.’  She reached down and took off Draco’s shoes and let them drop to the floor.  ‘I love you.’

            ‘Yeah.’

            ‘Do you love me?’

            ‘Mmm.’

            ‘ _Draco_ ,’ she said with a small laugh.

            ‘You know I fucking love you, so stop asking.’  Draco turned on his side and reached for Ginny.  ‘Now shut up and go to sleep.’

            ‘But I’m not tired,’ Ginny replied as Draco pulled her to him so that she was lying next to him, facing him.

            ‘Then just shut up,’ he said as he closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.

XXXXXXX

            The sex that night was slow, deep, and hot.  When Draco woke up in the morning – or rather, when Ginny woke up because he hardly slept since he took a two-hour nap that afternoon – he decided he needed a shower and a shave.  He hadn’t shaved in days and while no one could probably tell since his hair looked translucent against his skin, he felt gruff whenever he touched his chin.  They showered and went through their morning rituals without speaking, but not without touching.  While Draco brushed his teeth, Ginny hugged him from behind and placed a kiss between his bare shoulder blades.

            Ginny made breakfast – eggs and cheese and bacon.  They ate in silence, but the way Ginny continually fidgeted let Draco know she had something to say.  For several minutes her eyes were glued to the tips of her fingers where they were slick with bacon grease and she rubbed them together slowly before wiping them on her napkin.  

            ‘D’you have something to say?’ he finally asked, taking a long drink of water from his glass.

            ‘No.’

            ‘Are you sure?’

            ‘Well ... I was kind of wondering ... when, y’know, we were going to go send that owl to Harry.’

            ‘Ah.  Don’t you think you need to write a letter to him first before we go to the owl post?’

            

            ‘Me?’

            ‘Harry would never believe a single goddamned word in any letter _I_ write.  Just be sure to tell him that you weren’t kidnapped and I’m not keeping you hostage or anything.’

            Ginny smiled.  ‘All right.  I’ll go write him while you clean the kitchen.’  She stood up and dashed off into the bedroom.

            ‘No, wait!’ shouted Draco, but she acted as though she didn’t hear him.  Clean the kitchen?  No, he didn’t think so.  Instead, he waited for her to finish the letter.

            His thoughts ventured to the day before when they had their monstrous fight.  It seemed as though it was going to be the end of things, but it wasn’t.  The fight wore him out and luckily he was able to sleep.  When he woke up, they ate dinner and talked.  Ginny asked him after dinner what he’d done to Ollivander.  He tried to avoid her question, but she pressed on.

            _‘I Obliviated him.’_

_‘Is that all?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_Ginny’s eyes narrowed.  ‘Is that all?’ she repeated._

_‘I asked him some more questions – about being a Death Eater and what kind of wand he made for the Dark Lord – then I said_ Obliviate _and that was that.’_

_‘Why do I feel as though there’s something you’re not telling me?  How come you made me leave?’_

_‘I figured you’d try and stop me.’_

_‘Oh.  I might’ve, that’s true.  Anything else?’_

_‘Oh, fine,’ snapped Draco.  ‘I made a Portkey and had him touch it.’_

_‘Where’d you send him?’_

_‘Dunno.’_

_‘Of course you know!’_

            _‘Actually, I don’t.  I’ve never made a Portkey before.  I was thinking China or something, but, really, I haven’t the faintest idea where he ended up.’_

            Now, Draco snorted.  The idea of Ollivander wandering around China without a clue as to what was going on was rather amusing.

            Ginny emerged from the bedroom a few moments later with a smile on her face.  ‘Finished!’

XXXXXXX

_Dear Harry,_

_If you’re reading this then you followed my instructions in the first note I sent you.  The ink and quill you’re using for this letter can only be read by you.  If you showed what you are writing right now to anyone else, they would only see gibberish._

_I’m sure you’ve been worried sick about me.  I’ve been reading in some of the papers around here about the war and Ron was quoted in one of them.  I’m fine.  I was kidnapped by Death Eaters from school where I was supposed to be bait for you to come and start a fight with Voldemort.  Only, Lucius Malfoy cut me with some spell that made me pass out and when I woke up it was a month later and Draco had been taking care of me.  I can’t tell you any more than that, though, but I’m fine and there’s nothing to worry about._

_I’d be there to help you fight if I wasn’t still sick from Malfoy’s spell.  That and, if I came back there’s no doubt Voldemort would try to kill me if he knew where I was and I don’t want to be a danger for you._

_But Harry, the reason I’m writing is very important.  Draco and I stumbled upon Mr Ollivander the other day who told us that when he disappeared two years ago it was by choice.  Death Eaters came to his shop and told him he needed to come with them, so he did.  Voldemort wanted him to make a new wand for him.  Since the wand you have was the brother wand to Voldemort’s old one, he wanted a new, more powerful one that he could use against you._

_That’s the first reason I’m writing.  The second is that I think we’ve got the last Horcrux.  It looks like a goblet with two handles and the emblem of a badger on one side.  It’s silver and thick and heavy.  If you think this is the last Horcrux, we’ll send it to you.  But first you must send a reply with this owl.  Don’t try to find me.  I’ll find you when the war is over.  We check the wizarding papers every week.  They’re always reporting on the war and I know one day I’ll read it and it’ll say that the war is over and you were victorious._

_Until then, know that I’m fine and I miss you.  Please tell my family that I’m all right and tell Ron to keep Mum company so she’ll stop baking.  Also, tell Hermione I miss her as well._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

XXXXXXX

            The wizarding part of the town was just an alleyway, much like Diagon Alley in London.  Ginny liked coming here.  Every time Draco came, she tagged along.  It took Harry two weeks to reply to her letter, saying that he had trouble finding time alone to go through her trunk to find the ink and quill.  He wanted them to send Hufflepuff’s cup and he sent a little postscript to Ginny saying that he still didn’t believe she was all right and wouldn’t believe it until he saw her.

            Ginny hadn’t thrown away any of the newspapers they’d taken so far.  She kept them as a record of the dead.  News about the war was always in the middle of the Sicilian newspaper, but it always had a list at the end of each article of fatalities, casualties, and disappearances.  So far there wasn’t anyone on the list that Ginny knew personally, but there were several witches and wizards she’d heard of before – Hestia Jones and Arabella Figg amongst the few names Ginny recognised.  Although why anyone would want to kill a Squib like old Mrs Figg, Ginny had no idea.

            ‘Two Death Eaters were killed,’ Ginny told Draco one day while reading the newspaper on the leather sofa, her feet in his lap.  

            ‘Who?’

            ‘MacNair and ...’

            ‘And who?’

            Ginny lifted her eyes to Draco’s.  He was reading a book on the other end of the sofa while caressing her ankles with one hand.

            ‘What?  Who was it?’

            ‘Your aunt.’

            ‘What?’ said Draco in a very disbelieving tone.

            

            ‘It says, “ _Found in the Atrium of Great Britain’s Ministry of Magic, was the body of Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Black.  Her body was discovered by a Ministry janitor, Francesca Novotny, twenty-three.  Bellatrix Lestrange appeared to have been killed by the_ Avada Kedavra _curse, but nothing can be ruled out until the Official Healer examines the body.  Lestrange’s body is fifteenth in line to be examined today._ ”  It goes on further,’ said Ginny, ‘but nothing else about your aunt.’

            ‘I wonder who did it.’

            ‘It doesn’t say.  They probably don’t know, but if I had to guess I’d say someone in the Order.’

            ‘You think someone in that goddamn Phoenix Order killed my aunt?’

            ‘Order of the Phoenix,’ corrected Ginny, ‘and probably, yes.  There was probably a duel or something.  Although, I wonder why she was in the Ministry.  That’s a bit odd.’

            ‘So ... everyone in my family is dead.’

            ‘What about that great-aunt of your mum’s that she went to visit over Christmas holiday?’

            ‘I’ve only met her once, but I don’t really remember her.  She’s over 110 years old, I think.’  Draco looked back down at his book, but Ginny noticed his eyes weren’t moving.

            ‘Did you like your aunt?’

            ‘She was all right.’

            ‘Just all right?’

            ‘Well, she was in Azkaban for almost all of my life.  I suppose she was rather amusing when she escaped.’

            ‘Amusing?  I never imagined her to be amusing.  She killed Sirius.’

            ‘I know.  We were related, but I never dared mention that fact to my father.  He was a blood-traitor, just like his brother.’

            ‘What?  His brother?’

            ‘Yeah, his brother turned his back on the Dark Lord so he sent out one of his Death Eaters to have him killed.  Actually, Bella might have killed him as well, I don’t know.’

            ‘Oh.’  Ginny had no idea what to say to this.  ‘So how was your aunt amusing?’

            ‘She drank a lot of Firewhisky.’

            ‘A drunk?’

            Draco shrugged.  His eyes went back to his book and Ginny watched them move back and forth, but whether he was actually reading, she wasn’t sure.  Since he didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, Ginny kept her mouth shut.

            The next couple of weeks went by slowly.  Ginny quickly became bored of doing nothing all day so she asked Draco to find her a job, so she began painting the interiors of several of the houses around the village.  It was nice; she didn’t have to talk to anyone, only paint what needed painting and went home.  The best part was that the money she got was hers to do as she pleased with and the first thing she did was take Draco out to dinner on her dime.  He bought her clothes, paid for the flat they were letting, and picked up the bill without comment whenever they ate out.

            They had reached a quiet lull when they were together.  Some nights they lay in bed, reading their separate books; other nights they went out to dinner and a bar where a local band played.  When they talked, they talked for hours, although it was usually a struggle to get Draco to open up, but once they were in conversation, he’d keep on talking.  He told no one ever challenged him; everyone usually accepted what he said and went along with it.  No one ever questioned him or said no.  His father was the only one who ever told him what to do, but he never saw him much when he was alive.  

            But Draco challenged her as well.  A lot of the boys at Hogwarts treated her as though she was pretty, which she was, but they were more interested in getting her to go on a date with them so they could date one of the most popular girls in school.  Draco had no interest in impressing her or placating her and even though it could be infuriating at times, ultimately it was one of the things she liked best about him.

            As soon as Ginny got the job, their relationship improved.  The time apart was good for them; it gave them something to look forward to, Ginny coming home.  Which was another thing – the flat became their home and though Ginny knew she would be leaving when the war was over, she still fancied the thought of coming back to Draco in Sicily.

            Her family would be angry with her – no, angry wasn’t a strong enough word.  They’d be furious, enraged.  They might not even talk to her ever again.  And Harry would be hurt most.  She couldn’t even think what Harry’s reaction would be.  It was easier to not try to deal with it, to not play the impending conversation out in her head.  Still, she’d deal with it when the time came.  But as much as she wanted to stay with Draco, she wanted the war to end more.  She needed to see her family.  She was homesick for each of them.

            Well over a month after they sent Harry the Horcrux, Draco came home with a newspaper under his arm and tossed it on Ginny’s lap.

            ‘You went to the alley without me?’ she said, feeling annoyed and angry.  He always took her with him.  This time she hadn’t even known he was going.

            Draco shrugged and sat down beside her on the leather sofa.  ‘Had to buy some things.  You might want to read that.’

            ‘But you just got a newspaper yesterday,’ said Ginny, still looking at Draco through narrowed eyes.

            He sighed and flipped the paper over so that the front page was facing up.  ‘Yeah, but that’s a special edition, Ginny.  The war’s over.’

XXXXXXX

**THE WAR IS OVER:**

**HARRY POTTER REIGNS VICTORIOUS**

Justine MacIntyre

STAFF WRITER 

Reprinted and translated with permission from the _Daily Prophet_

            _Yesterday afternoon the world caught word that the war between good and evil ended.  Led by Harry J. Potter, a secret society of witches and wizards called the Order of the Phoenix, founded by Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, advanced on a house in Helga’s Landing, England where He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was rumoured to be located.  The battle began yesterday morning between members of the Order and Death Eaters and continued for over six hours until Harry Potter came out of the house, wand raised, and declared a victory for the Order._

            _As Ministry Aurors showed up to arrest the remaining Death Eaters, Harry Potter was quoted as saying, ‘I do not want to go to St Mungo’s until I find Ron [Weasley] and Hermione [Granger]!’  Once his friends were accounted for, Harry allowed Ministry officials to escort him to the wizard hospital in London where he will stay for several days, recovering from the mental and physical attack he underwent with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_Before nightfall, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement arrested thirteen Death Eaters and sent the dead bodies of seventeen more to St Mungo’s to be evaluated for reason of death (story continued on page 3; partial list of casualties and fatalities, see page 9) ..._

XXXXXXX

            Ginny didn’t look at the list of names.  She was too busy packing her clothes and books and ordering Draco to get tickets for the Duchess Express.  The decision over whether she should take all her things was nagging her.  Truth be told, she had no idea if she was going to be coming back or not.  Part of her wanted to, but the realistic part of her knew that it wasn’t entirely plausible.  In the end she left a fair few things in the wardrobe, just in case.

            ‘Can the train come here?  Since we’re on an island?’

            ‘It’s a magical train – so yes.  It swims, sort of,’ said Draco, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, watching Ginny pack.  She could feel his eyes on her; it made her skin heat up in a pleasant way.

            ‘Then book two tickets; we’re going back to England.’

            Draco sniggered.  ‘I’m sorry, but I thought you said _two_ tickets.’

            Ginny stopped packing and looked at Draco.  His expression was one of confusion and Ginny couldn’t help but smile.  ‘You’re coming with me.’

            ‘No, I’m not.’

            ‘Yes, you are.  I can’t very well ride an international wizard train all by myself.  Besides, what if I don’t want to stay?  I’ll need you to take me back home.’

            ‘Back home?’

            ‘Here, to Sicily.’

            ‘Ah.’

            Ginny folded up her nightshirt and placed it on top of all her other clothes in her bag.  ‘You don’t want to come with me?’ she asked, zipping up the bag.

            ‘I told you before, Gin, there’s nothing in England for me.  I don’t want to go back.  Besides, what am I going to do?  Where am I going to stay?’

            ‘Stay at your house.  I assume no one has taken anything from it.  It’s probably charmed, isn’t it?  To only be entered and owned by the next living relative – which would be you.’

            ‘Well, yes.’

            ‘And if you don’t want to stay there, you have enough money to get a room somewhere.’

            ‘Am I supposed to just wait for you to finish deciding if you want to choose me over your family?’

            ‘No, of course not!’ cried Ginny.  ‘I want you in England to be with me.  I don’t want to lose you.  Just come.  Even if it’s for a little while.’

            Draco sighed.  ‘Fine,’ he relented.  ‘I’ll give you a week.  After that, I’m coming back here, got that?  With or without you.’

XXXXXXX

            The train ride was bumpy and long.  It was worse than the Knight Bus, if that was possible.  It stopped in front of their flat, but none of the Muggles on the street seemed to notice it.  Before Ginny could even sit down, the train took off at amazing speed.  It jumped over the shoreline and ran across the ocean as though there was an invisible track above the water.  There were eleven stops in all before Ottery St Catchpole came into view.  Draco didn’t say anything as she got her bag and exited the train.  She gave him a kiss before she left, but he didn’t look up from his book.  Ginny knew he was upset that he allowed himself to be talked into coming back to England, but she was too glad to be home to care.

            It was close to three o’clock in the morning when Ginny pushed open the kitchen door to The Burrow and walked inside.  Her chest began to ache and she felt as though she might burst on the spot.  It felt fantastic to be home.  She walked over to the clock.  None of the hands were on Mortal Peril any longer and Ginny watched her own hand move from Missing to Home.  But not all the hands were pointed to Home – three of her brothers were pointed to Lost, Bill’s and her parent’s were on Hospital, and George’s was on Work.  Only Ron’s was pointed to Home.

            Licking her lips, Ginny could taste the sweetness of home.  The smell of cinnamon biscuits circled the air and tickled her nostrils.  She was _home_ and the feeling that surrounded The Burrow encircled her and hugged her and left her feeling at ease.

            Her feet led her to the stairs and she slowly climbed them, careful to avoid the ones that squeaked.  She stopped in front of her bedroom door; it was open, but no one was inside.  Dropping her bag, Ginny walked into her room and smiled.  It felt great to be home!  

            The extra bed in her room looked slept-in, which led Ginny to assume Hermione must be at The Burrow.  She waited for several minutes, but the older girl didn’t come back.  Perhaps she was in Ron’s room.  Ginny had never caught them in her brother’s room before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there now.  There were several more squeaky stairs on the way to Ron’s room that Ginny had to avoid.  She listened outside his door, but only heard her brother’s faint snore.  Touching the doorknob, Ginny took in a deep breath and opened the door.

            Ron’s room was orange.  Chudley Cannons posters practically wallpapered every inch of the room, including the ceiling.  There were a few picture frames on his bedside table – all of them were of Harry, Hermione, and him.  Clothes were discarded and strewn all over the floor.

            The bed was empty; Ron and Hermione were on a makeshift bed on the floor, Hermione on her back, and Ron curled up next to her.  It might have been an amusing sight, since Ron was so much longer than Hermione, if it didn’t look so intimate.  Ginny had half a mind to turn around and go back to her room since the house was so quiet and she didn’t want to wake anyone up.

            ‘Ginny?’

            Oops.  Too late.  Hermione woke up and sat up, careful to move Ron’s arms slowly so that he wouldn’t wake up.  She stood up and walked over to Ginny, who noticed that the bushy-haired girl had on an old t-shirt of Ron’s and a pair of lightweight cotton pyjama bottoms.

            ‘Hi,’ said Ginny awkwardly.

            They looked at one another for a moment before Hermione threw her arms around Ginny’s neck.

            ‘ _Oh my God!_ ’ she cried.  ‘I cannot believe you’re back!’  She pulled away and sniffled.  ‘Is that really you?’

            ‘In the flesh.’

            Hermione reached out and touched the end of one of Ginny’s plaits.  ‘Wow.  I honestly thought we were never going to see you again,’ she said in a rushed whisper.  ‘Did you just get here?  What happened?  Where were you?’

            Ginny told Hermione the story from the kidnapping to reading the train ride.  She was careful to omit any information regarding her relationship to Draco – no mention of Draco’s actual initiation.  Instead, she told Hermione that he had been told to kill her, but thanks to the potion, she was only knocked out.  Hermione listened with wide, disbelieving eyes.

            ‘You mean ... Malfoy took _care_ of you?’

            ‘Didn’t Harry tell you?  I wrote him a letter.’

            ‘Well, of course he told me.  Honestly, I didn’t quite believe it.’

            Ginny shrugged.  ‘I think Draco felt responsible for what happened.  I mean, his father told him to kill me and said that if Draco didn’t do it, he would do it for him – after he tortured and raped me.  So, really, Draco thought he was saving me, but ...’  Ginny shrugged.  ‘I wanted to be here to fight.  I really did.  But look.’  Ginny lifted up her shirt to reveal her stomach and the large scar that was there.

            ‘Oh my,’ said Hermione.  ‘That’s – that’s a terrible-looking scar!  Much worse than the ones on Ron’s arms.’

            ‘Yes – speaking of my brother, what were you doing in his room?’

            Hermione swallowed.  ‘He asked me to stay with him.  I think your dad knows, but he didn’t say anything.  Not after ... well, you read the article.’

            Ginny furrowed her brow.  ‘What?’

            Just then, from behind Hermione, Ron stirred and opened his eyes.  When they looked at Ginny, he jumped up.  

            ‘Holy shite!’ he cried.

            ‘ _Shut up_!’ hissed Ginny.  ‘I don’t want you to wake up the whole house.’

            ‘No one’s here,’ said Ron.  ‘Well, ‘cept Harry and Neville, I s’pose.’

            ‘Neville?’ said Ginny, confused.

            ‘Where’ve you been!’ cried Ron, completely ignoring Ginny’s question.

            Ginny sighed and retold the same story she told Hermione.  ‘But I’m _so_ glad to be home.  Where is everyone if they’re not home?’ she asked rather excited.

            Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

            ‘I thought you said you read the newspapers,’ said Hermione, her eyes growing watery.

            ‘I did ... well, not all of it.  Just the front page.  I was in such a rush to get home.’  Ginny watched Ron swallow hard and sit down on the edge of his bed, covering his face with his hands.  She shifted her eyes to Hermione who looked on the verge of tears.  ‘Oh my God, what is going on?’

            ‘Ginny,’ said Hermione with a loud sniff, ‘you didn’t – you didn’t see the list of casualties and fatalities?’

            ‘ _No_ ,’ said Ginny, not wanting to know what was going to come next.  ‘Who?  _Who_ , Hermione?!’

            Hermione wiped frantically at her eyes.  ‘Charlie and Fred,’ she whispered.  ‘And maybe Percy, too.  No one knows where he is.’

            Ginny felt as though someone had just punched her in the stomach.  She fell to her knees, hot tears streaming down her face.  She looked up towards Ron through blurry eyes; he had fallen back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, fresh tears trailing down his cheeks as well.

            ‘I’m sorry,’ said Hermione, ‘I’m so sorry.’

            ‘The clock,’ said Ginny.  ‘Their hands were all pointed to Lost.  Oh God ...’  She leaned over, trying to catch her breath.  She thought she might pass out.  Her throat felt small and her eyes swam in her head.  _Charlie ... Fred ... Percy ... gone.  Just gone._   She felt arms rubbing her back and she knew Hermione was trying to comfort her, but it wasn’t working very well.  The kind of comfort she wanted was warm arms holding her, letting her cry.  Hermione did not own those arms.

            After a few minutes – or almost an hour, she had no idea – Ginny came up for air and rubbed the tears from her eyes.  Ron had sat back up, looking wretched and worn-out.

            ‘Tell me,’ whispered Ginny, ‘how?’

            ‘We’re not sure,’ answered Hermione.  ‘Their bodies are at St Mungo’s, but most likely the Killing Curse.  Fred died trying to save George.  We tried talking George into staying here, but he wanted to go back to his flat.’

            ‘Must be why his hand was pointed to Work,’ said Ginny, ‘since the twins’ flat is above their shop.’

            Hermione nodded.  ‘And Charlie ... we’re not sure what happened to him.  He wasn’t supposed to be there, but he came in last minute when word got back to Order Headquarters that reinforcements were needed.  And Percy, well, like I said, no one’s found him yet, but as his hand is pointed to Lost ...’

            ‘What’s happened to Bill?  And Mum and Dad?’

            ‘Mum and Dad are fine,’ said Ron in a voice thick with remorse.  ‘They’re visiting Bill.  The Healers said he’d live.’

            ‘He let himself get turned into a full werewolf and he fought Greyback single-handedly and killed him.’

            ‘Where was Lupin?’

            ‘Lupin’s been injured all year,’ said Hermione.  ‘His leg – he can walk, but he can’t run or anything.  He stayed at Headquarters.  Actually, there was this huge fight between Tonks and him before everyone Disapparated to Helga’s Landing.  He didn’t want her to go and she told him to – well, I can’t say it.’

            ‘Tonks told Lupin to go fuck himself,’ offered Ron and Hermione’s cheeks pinked.  

            Ginny snorted.  ‘That’s rather funny.’

            ‘Yeah,’ said Hermione, trying to smile.  ‘Anyway, Neville’s house was ransacked while he was at work for the Order one day and his grandmother was killed.  He’s been living here and at Grimmauld Place for several weeks.  He’s in Percy’s old room right now.’

            ‘Shite,’ said Ginny.  ‘What about everyone else – McGonagall and Tonks and Kingsley and—’

            ‘Mundungus died,’ said Ron flatly.  ‘Kingsley and Tonks are in St Mungo’s and McGonagall’s fine.’

            ‘Anyone else from Hogwarts?’ asked Ginny, although she wasn’t sure she really wanted to hear the answer.

            ‘Loads of people from the DA came,’ said Ron.  ‘A surprising number.’

            ‘Seamus showed up,’ said Hermione, looking down at her hands.  ‘And Dean.’

            ‘Don’t tell me ...’

            ‘Seamus is all right,’ said Ron, ‘but Dean ...’  He punched his mattress.  ‘Dean’s not all right.’  Ron covered his face again.

            ‘Dean was right next to Ron,’ explained Hermione.  ‘And it wasn’t a Killing Curse that got him.  One of the Death Eaters burned him.’

            ‘ _Burned_ him?’

            ‘Set him on fire.’

            If someone stabbed her right in the heart, Ginny wasn’t sure she’d feel any worse.  ‘Holy shit.  Holy shit.  Just _oh my God_.’  She bit down on her lip, hard, to try and keep from crying any more than she already had.

            Hermione nodded and wiped at her eyes again.  ‘Other than that – I don’t know.  Not all the names were released to the papers.  They listed Fred’s name, but not Charlie’s or Percy’s.  Dean wasn’t in there either, but Mundungus was listed.  There were several others whose names neither of us knew.’

            ‘I read in the papers that Harry was going to be in St Mungo’s for several days,’ said Ginny.

            ‘That’s what we had one of the Healers tell the reporters.  We hoped that if they thought he was in a protected ward that they wouldn’t come looking for him here.  So he could have some peace and quiet.  A Healer’s supposed to come and check him over everyday to make sure he’s all right.’  Ron shrugged.  ‘But so far he seems okay.’

            ‘We thought he might pull away,’ said Hermione.  ‘You know – like he does sometimes.  But he’s been surprisingly calm and collected.  I don’t think the deaths have sunk in yet.  I don’t think he ever really mourned Sirius’ and Dumbledore’s deaths, though.  I never saw him cry.  He never really mentioned them either.  When Cedric died, he was caught up over it.  I think he’s repressed everything.  He’ll let himself go eventually.  Then he’ll be able to heal.’

            ‘Stop analysing everything, Hermione,’ said Ron irritably.  ‘I’ve been having to keep her away from him.  I don’t want her pushing him too quickly to _talk_ ,’ he told Ginny.

            ‘I agree,’ said Ginny, looking at Hermione.  ‘He’ll only pull away more.  You know how Harry is.’

            There was silence after that.  Ginny couldn’t look at either of them.  Fresh tears stung her eyes and she tried desperately to keep them back.  

            ‘I’ll let you two get back to sleep,’ whispered Ginny.

            ‘No,’ said Hermione.  ‘Why don’t you stay with us?  We’ve had more time to digest things than you have and—’

            ‘You two should be alone,’ said Ginny.  ‘Who knows when you’ll have another chance.’

            ‘We’ve been alone since school ended,’ said Hermione, looking at Ginny intently.  ‘Your parents have come and gone so much and – well, never mind.’  Hermione’s cheeks turned pink again and Ginny realised she didn’t want to know.

            ‘Doesn’t matter.  I’d rather be alone.  I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.’

            Ginny got up from the floor, her knees feeling weak, and walked out of Ron’s room, shutting his door behind her.  Not knowing where she wanted to go, Ginny wandered down the stairs and found herself in the living room.  She sat down on the old, tattered settee and looked up at the old Weasley clock.  Silent tears fell down her cheeks and over her lips, stinging the cracks where she’d bit down too hard up in Ron’s room when she was trying not to cry anymore.  She fell asleep looking at the clock and the three hands that pointed to Lost.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued ...

XXXXXXX

 


	13. Secrets Told

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Thirteen: Secrets Told**

XXXXXXX

‘Mum, you’re squishing me!’ 

Mrs Weasley loosened her grip on her daughter and used her apron to wipe the tears from her eyes. ‘I’m so happy my baby is home!’

Ginny offered her mother a smile, but she didn’t really feel like smiling. Three of her brothers were dead – ‘Lost’ – and being home had never made her feel worse. Her mother’s squealing woke her earlier that morning. Her parents came home from St Mungo’s and found their daughter sleeping on the settee. Ginny could never remember her father ever crying before, 

but there he was, tears dripping from both eyes. 

Her mum made a large breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and sausages. Ron and Hermione made their way downstairs shortly after Ginny began eating. Neville came next, overly excited to see Ginny. Once Harry came down, looking surprised but overjoyed as well, Mrs Weasley insisted that Ginny tell them all exactly what had happened. She began with being kidnapped and ended with reading the newspaper article, omitting the details about the ‘rape’ and any subsequent relationship with Draco.

‘I can’t tell you how happy we are that you’re home,’ said Ginny’s father, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. 

‘Thanks, Dad,’ she said.

‘You look too thin,’ said her mum. ‘Didn’t you eat in Sicily? Have another piece of bacon.’

‘Please, Mum, no more. I can’t eat another thing.’

Mrs Weasley scooped out more eggs and put them on Ginny’s plate. Ginny looked at the heap of food and felt her stomach turn; it wasn’t used to handling the volumes of nosh her mother usually insisted she eat. 

‘Neville, d’you need more pumpkin juice?’

Neville shook his head. ‘No, ma’am, thank you, though.’

He looked tired and pale and almost ill. The final battle must have taken an emotional toll on him as well. Ron and Hermione also looked tired and wan. The only person who appeared to look as though nothing had happened was Harry. There was remarkable colour in his cheeks and for once his eyes didn’t look dark or brooding. True, Ron and Hermione had said he wasn’t talking about what had gone on inside Voldemort’s house, but Ginny couldn’t miss the unmistakable look of – what was it, relief? – that encased Harry’s entire body.

‘Are you going to stay here?’ Mrs Weasley asked Neville.

‘Here? Are you going somewhere?’ asked Ginny before Neville could answer.

‘Bill’s feeling well enough to have more visitors,’ Ginny’s dad answered. ‘Not until this afternoon, though. I thought you lot could Floo to St Mungo’s after lunch. I need to have a look in on Tonks beforehand, though.’

‘What happened to Bill? How long is he going to have to be in hospital?’

Mrs Weasley dabbed at her eyes with her apron again. ‘Werewolf bites. Cuts and scrapes and things of that sort. Silly, that. He’s dealt with his wolf-side for a while now, but still ... the Healers insist.’

‘They know best,’ said Mr Weasley quietly. 

‘Where’s Fleur?’ asked Ginny, suddenly realising that Bill’s wife wasn’t around.

Mr Weasley coughed. ‘Best we not talk about her.’

‘ _Phlegm_ is at Beauxbatons,’ said Mrs Weasley, using the nickname Ginny had bestowed on Fleur two summers ago. 

‘Why?’

‘Molly, dear, let’s not—’

‘Let’s not what?’ snapped Mrs Weasley, interrupting her husband. ‘Let’s not talk about _Phlegm_? Bill didn’t want her fighting so she took a teaching position at Beauxbatons for the school year. Hasn’t been by to see Bill! I owled her to tell her he was in St Mungo’s! Almost _died_! But does she care? No, she—’

‘ _Mum_ ,’ interrupted Ron. ‘She’s going to come. She’s not going to ignore Bill.’

‘You’d like it if she came,’ said Hermione, obviously irritated at Ron for defending Fleur.

‘Oh, I would not!’ cried Ron.

‘Don’t start,’ said Harry. ‘She’s a veela, Hermione, get over it. Ron’s always going to have a biological reaction to her.’

‘Harry!’ The tips of Ron’s ears turned bright red. ‘Like _you’ve_ never had a reaction to her.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Not like you.’

‘Would you like to come to St Mungo’s with us?’ Mr Weasley asked his daughter.

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please!’ 

‘Would you like to come see Tonks with me?’

Ginny wasn’t sure why her father would invite her, and not anyone else, to come with him to visit Tonks, but she agreed quickly, thinking how nice it would be to see her and wondering what colour her hair was going to be. Ginny guessed violet.

After breakfast Ginny went upstairs to the loo to shower and change her clothes. She put on her favourite new shirt that Draco had bought her. It felt like silk against her skin. She wore it with a pair of new jeans and trainers. Hermione commented on the new clothes, but Ginny only shrugged, not wanting to get into a conversation about why her new clothes were so nice and expensive. Somehow Ginny knew she would feel the need to defend her new wardrobe. She was entitled to new clothes after having second-hand clothes for so many years.

Mrs Weasley packed a carry-along lunch for Ginny and her father for their trip to St Mungo’s. Money, she had said, was still tight and there was no need spending any of it in the tea room when she was perfectly capable of making them lunch herself.

‘We’ll be there at two o’clock,’ said Mrs Weasley quickly kissing Arthur on the mouth and Ginny on the cheek.

They arrived, covered in soot, at St Mungo’s which Mr Weasley quickly cleaned off using _Scourgify_. They went upstairs, dodging the long queue of witches and wizards waiting to get to the front desk.

‘Not everyone is allowed to Floo in here,’ her father told her. ‘So many reporters trying to get in and talk to the victims of the battle.’ He sighed. ‘They won’t let them heal in peace.’

‘Dad? Why did you want me to come along?’

‘I haven’t seen my daughter in months – thought I might never see her again. I’m allowed to want to spend some time with her, aren’t I?’

Ginny swallowed against a lump in her throat. ‘I’m sorry I worried you. Harry told you I owled him, though, yeah?’

‘Yes, but that’s not the same as _seeing_ you.’ Mr Weasley patted her shoulder. ‘I wanted you to come with me so I could tell you that. Ah! Here’s Tonks’ room. Have some last minute Order business to tell her.’

The room was small, but private. Tonks looked asleep, her hair long, straight, and mousy brown. Ginny was surprised to see Lupin sitting next to Tonks’ bed, although she wasn’t sure why she was shocked to see him; he was dating Tonks after all.

‘Ah, Arthur,’ said Lupin, standing up. ‘And _Ginny_? I daresay I hadn’t expected to see you here.’

‘I came home last night,’ said Ginny, sucking in her lower lip and biting down on it nervously. ‘How’re you?’

‘I’m all right. Tonks just fell asleep. Cruciatus Curse, you know.’

‘Oh, no, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’ Ginny felt lame saying it, but she had no idea what else she was supposed to say.

‘I think I’ll go to the tea room and get something to eat. I haven’t had anything all day.’

‘If you don’t mind, I’ll stay in here, in case she wakes up,’ said Mr Weasley.

‘Not at all,’ said Lupin. ‘Ginny, would you like to join me?’

‘Oh – uh – sure.’ Ginny looked at her father who smiled and nodded.

Lupin left the hospital room with Ginny right behind him. Like almost everyone else, he looked tired and worn out, the streaks of grey in his hair looking more prominent. Before he got to the stairwell, he turned around and looked at Ginny squarely in the eye.

‘Tonks knows.’

‘Wha—? Oh. Well, I expected that.’

‘I asked her not to tell anyone. I hope you realise the position you put me in. When the newspapers began reporting your kidnapping and disappearance afterwards, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Every article talked about how Draco Malfoy took you against your will and – well, to be honest, I didn’t know if I should refute that or not. I told your father that I firmly believed Draco had changed for the better and that he didn’t take you out of England against your will.’

‘Did he believe you?’

‘I don’t know. For your sake I think he wanted to, but whether he actually thought it, I’ve no idea.’

‘I’m sorry I put you in an awkward situation,’ said Ginny, feeling guilty. ‘I didn’t mean to. But if it helps, I used Occlumency against Lucius Malfoy successfully before he died.’

‘Did you?’

‘Yes, and I have you to thank for that.’

Lupin nodded.

‘So, how _is_ Tonks doing? Is she all right?’

‘She’s going to make a full recovery. Right now she’s just tired and she’s not ready to leave St Mungo’s because there’s a horde of reporters camped outside of our house in Hogsmeade.’

‘You bought a _house_?’

‘Yes. Most married couples live in houses, Ginny,’ said Lupin.

‘You got married!’ Ginny cried.

‘No one told you? No, I suppose they wouldn’t have. Yes, yes, married.’

‘How’d she convince you of that?’

‘Very slowly,’ replied Lupin with a slight chuckle. ‘I’ll have Tonks fill you in on those details when she wakes up. Do you want to go to the tea room?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No, I think I’ll wait for my dad or go see if Ron and the rest have come yet.’

Lupin nodded and headed off to get something to eat. Ginny walked back down the hall, stopping to ask a Healer where Bill’s room was. She went off in that direction and spotted Hermione sitting on the floor, a book in her lap, outside the room. 

‘You got here early,’ observed Ginny.

Hermione looked up. Her usual bushy hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and she had on a fairly tight-fitting t-shirt, which Ginny thought was very out-of-character for Hermione. But perhaps she was trying to appeal to Ron.

‘Yes, Ron wouldn’t shut up about coming. He and Harry set off to get something to eat – as usual – but your mum yelled about not wasting money so Harry insisted that he was going to pay. Your mum went to see Tonks. The Healers are in Bill’s room now, checking him over. I brought a book with me, just in case.’

Ginny sat down next to Hermione and took in a deep breath. ‘So, how are you doing after the battle and everything?’

‘I wasn’t hurt,’ said Hermione. ‘Thankfully, neither were Harry or Ron.’

‘How are things with Ron?’

‘Fine,’ said Hermione with a small shrug.

‘Only fine? Last night you said how much alone time the two of you had.’

‘Oh, that. Well, it’s true. We’ve been sleeping on the floor in his room every night for ages. We bicker a lot, y’know, and even if we’ve been fighting, he’ll insist I sleep in there. I don’t know why.’

‘Yes, you do,’ said Ginny. ‘He loves you. It’s always bad going to bed upset. Don’t you feel better sleeping next to him?’

‘Of course I do. I wonder what’s going to happen when I go back home.’

‘What did you tell your parents was your reason for not going home in the first place?’ Ginny asked.

‘The truth. I’m almost nineteen. What are they going to say to me? “Hermione Jane, you have to come home!” They recognise that I’m an adult and have to make my own decisions, but now the war is over so I need to go home. Besides, I need a quiet place to fill out my job applications. I’ve been thinking about pursuing SPEW further or perhaps getting legislation passed giving werewolves more freedoms—’

‘That’s all nice, Hermione, but why would you go home?’

‘I can’t stay at The Burrow forever. Besides, your parents have their hands full with Ron and Harry and Neville staying there. And now that you’re home, they don’t need another mouth to feed.’

‘They don’t mind. You’re part of the family. I imagine you’ll always be a part of the family. You’re going to be a Weasley one day and you know it.’

Hermione didn’t smile, only shrugged, which Ginny found odd. She expected her to at least blush!

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know if that’s going to happen.’

‘Don’t you want it to?’

‘Eighteen is a little young to be thinking about getting married – especially to someone as dense as Ron.’

Ginny nodded. ‘True, but don’t you love him?’ When Hermione nodded, Ginny added, ‘And haven’t you been spending the night with him?’

‘Yes, but we haven’t had sex.’

‘Really?’

‘We’ve talked about it. I’m usually the one who brings it up, but Ron acts scared and he never wants to do it. I don’t think he does.’

‘Oh, Hermione, you don’t think he doesn’t want to have sex with _you_ , do you? He’s an insecure git. He’ll get over it. Do you want to do it?’

‘Yes. I mean, I suppose I’m scared, but I’m ready for the most part. Don’t say anything to Ron,’ begged Hermione. ‘We’ve been getting along so well for the most part lately and this would just cause a big row.’

‘I won’t,’ promised Ginny. ‘It’ll be fine when it happens. It’ll be over and then you won’t know why you were scared.’

‘I suppose. I’ll miss sleeping next to him, though, when I go home.’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Ginny, thinking of what it was like sleeping next to Draco, feeling the heat from his body warm up hers. Then, she blushed uncontrollably. _Shite!_ She’d all but admitted to Hermione that she knew what it felt like to sleep next to a boyfriend. ‘I mean,’ corrected Ginny, ‘I can imagine what you mean.’

Hermione gave her a quizzical look, but didn’t say anything. Harry and Ron came back after that, and waited with them to visit Bill. 

XXXXXXX

Bill acted groggy and tired so they only stayed a few minutes. He was happy to see Ginny and she began to cry when he asked her to hug him. Relief flooded her body; she was so happy that Bill was going to be all right. All day she tried not to think about Charlie or Fred or Percy and for the most part she succeeded, but seeing Bill lying in the hospital bed, covered in bandages, made everything she’d missed seem that much more apparent. Bill asked her not to cry and kissed the top of her head, telling her how much he missed seeing his little sister.

After that, he asked where Fleur was, and Mrs Weasley went into a tirade about her. Bill began to drift asleep halfway through Mrs Weasley’s yells so they left the room, allowing him to get more rest. On the way out, they spotted Fleur running down the corridor towards Bill’s room. When she saw Mrs Weasley she exploded in a tirade of her own in French. Hermione seemed the only one who understood anything she said.

‘She’s upset because she only got the owl this morning,’ Hermione whispered to Ron, Harry, and Ginny. ‘Something about Pig getting lost in the French countryside.’

Fleur flounced into Bill’s room and everyone could hear her wail, ‘Oh, Beel! _Je t’aime! Je t’aime!_ ’

They left Fleur’s blubbering and went to see Tonks next. This time she was awake, with Lupin back in her room, and they all chatted for about an hour. Tonks gave Ginny an extra long look, as though saying, ‘I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.’ Ginny felt guilty that Tonks had also been forced to keep her secret from everyone, especially her parents, but that was another thing Ginny didn’t want to think about.

Back at The Burrow, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat in the living room in silence. Mrs Weasley muttered something about starting dinner, even though it was still early in the afternoon. Mr Weasley left to go tinker around with a Muggle contraption he confiscated at a scene – ‘They call it a _microwave_ , Molly,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that _fascinating_?’ Neville tried to excuse himself, saying he needed to go write a letter to a friend, but Mrs Weasley said she was not going to hear any of that. She took him by the shirt sleeve and had him peeling potatoes in the kitchen with her.

‘Fancy a game of Quidditch?’ asked Harry.

‘At a time like this?’ said Ron, looking confused.

‘Why not?’ said Ginny. ‘It’s a good idea. Get our minds off things. And we can rescue Neville from Mum.’

‘He’s shite at Quidditch,’ said Ron.

‘So am I,’ stated Hermione. ‘He and I can be on the same team with one of you. Together, he and I might equal one player.’

Ron snorted. ‘I doubt it.’

Hermione frowned and Ron immediately apologised. Ginny could hardly believe it; Ron just apologised to Hermione without bickering first. The colour on Hermione’s cheeks reddened, but she otherwise didn’t seem surprised by Ron. He reached over and tucked one of her curls behind her ear and leaned forward, kissing her on the mouth.

‘Stop that!’ cried Harry, covering his eyes. ‘Not again.’

‘Not again?’ repeated Ginny.

‘Oh, Harry’s being sore because he caught us snogging a couple weeks ago,’ said Ron crossly.

‘Only they weren’t _just_ snogging,’ mumbled Harry. If Ron or Hermione heard what he said, they chose to ignore him. He pulled a disgusted-looking a face and Ginny giggled. It felt good to giggle.

‘Go ask Neville if he wants to play,’ Ron told Ginny. ‘And I’ll go get the brooms.’

Ginny nodded and headed through the living room towards the kitchen. She passed by the clock and couldn’t help but notice that the same three hands were pointing to Lost. A strangled sigh escaped from her throat, but she covered it up with a cough as she entered the kitchen.

‘Hey, Neville, want to come play Quidditch with us?’

The slightly chubby boy looked up from a pile of potatoes, his sandy-blonde hair sticking up everywhere. His round face looked downcast. Ginny couldn’t forget that he, too, had lost people during the war. Every Christmas he went to visit his parents, both insane because of Voldemort’s Death Eaters, and now his grandmother, the woman who raised him, was dead. His uncle was known to travel around the world from continent to continent. Neville hadn’t heard from him in several months, which wasn’t unusual, but he was the only member of the Longbottom family who wasn’t dead or a permanent resident of St Mungo’s.

‘Uh, that’s probably not a good idea,’ said Neville. ‘I don’t know if you ever heard the story of my first flying lesson ...’

Ginny shook her head, but she could only imagine what Neville on a broom would be like. ‘I thought I’d ask,’ she said, ‘just in case. We’ll be outside if you want to join us.’

Neville nodded. ‘Thanks for asking.’

‘Sure.’ Ginny tried to smile again, but she knew it was weak. ‘We’ll all be outside, Mum,’ she repeated in case her mum hadn’t heard her.

Mrs Weasley nodded at her daughter. ‘Be careful.’

‘We will,’ replied Ginny, opening up the door and walking outside. She crossed over the thick grass into the back garden where Ron and Harry were hovering a few metres above the ground, tossing a beat-up Quaffle back and forth to one another. ‘Are you going to get up, Hermione?’

‘I was waiting for you,’ the older girl said, mounting her broom and pushing up off the ground. ‘Go easy on me. I’m not very good at this.’

‘What positions are we going to play?’ Ginny asked, looking at her brother.

‘Oh. Just two on two. Try to get the Quaffle in between those sets of trees,’ he said, pointing to two pine trees that pointed straight up into the air. ‘If you score or steal the Quaffle, you have to bring it back here, near the shed, and then set back out towards the goal before you can score again.’

‘Sounds fair enough,’ said Ginny. She could feel Harry’s eyes on her; she’d been avoiding his gaze all day. ‘I’m on Hermione’s team.’

The four of them flew around, but none of their hearts seemed to be in the game. Ron and Harry didn’t throw the ball hard enough and Hermione was able to intercept it several times. Once Ron tried to show off by doing a feint, but he pulled out of it too soon when Hermione shrieked. This time he didn’t apologise, but he did have the decency to look a bit sheepish. 

After forty-five minutes or so, Hermione tossed Ginny the Quaffle and as she reached for it, a searing pain shot through her stomach. Her hands clutched her broom to steady herself, but the Quaffle fell to the ground and Ginny gasped for air. A set of hands took hold of her and flew her towards the ground.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Hermione in a worried tone. 

 

‘You looked like you were sick,’ said Ron, looking equally concerned.

The hands around Ginny dropped and she turned around to look at Harry. ‘Thanks.’

He shrugged in response. ‘What happened?’

‘It’s my stomach,’ she explained. ‘Whatever spell Lucius Malfoy used left Dark residue in the wound. It hurts at least three or four times a day. It’s been getting better lately. At first, it hurt several times an hour. I don’t think it’ll be gone completely, though, but it’s better.’

‘You don’t remember what spell it was?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No. It was very old, though. I’ve never heard of it before. Neither had Draco.’

Ron froze. ‘Did you just call him _Draco_ again?’

‘Sorry,’ snapped Ginny. ‘We _were_ together for quite a while. He doesn’t like being called Malfoy.’

 

‘That sounds like a shite reason to me. He doesn’t deserve to be called by his first name.’

‘ _Ron_ ,’ groaned Hermione in a tone that would have suggested to anyone with half a brain to shut it.

‘Shut up,’ said Ginny, ‘you don’t know anything about him.’

‘I know enough,’ said Ron.

‘I’m not listening to this.’ Ginny threw her broom on the ground and turned her back on her friends and brother and walked towards the murky lake near The Burrow. The grass tickled her ankles as she walked, her bare arms absorbing the heat from the summer sun. She sat down near the lake, looking at the dark water, wishing it was clean enough to swim in; it never had been.

From behind her, she could hear footsteps approaching and Ginny could tell from their light step that it was Harry. He was always quiet when he walked – nothing like Ron. He sat down next to her, breaking off a piece of grass and tearing it up into small pieces.

‘I’m sorry your brother’s a git.’

‘So am I.’

‘He’s been like that for a while. Since you were kidnapped, actually.’

‘Really?’ said Ginny, surprised.

Harry nodded. ‘Yeah. Hermione’s calmed him down a lot. She doesn’t take any shite from him, y’know.’

‘I know,’ said Ginny with a small smile. 

They were quiet after that for several minutes, looking into the water and feeling the slight breeze move the grass underneath their legs. Harry continued to tear up pieces of grass, with a look on his face that suggested there was something he wanted to say. Ginny fought the urge to ask him what was on his mind, but he finally opened his mouth.

 

‘The war’s over,’ Harry said. ‘And we’re still here.’

‘I know. I’ve heard you haven’t been talking to anyone about it. Closing yourself off.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it – not with them, anyway. They want to talk about Voldemort, but there’s nothing to say. It’s over and done with. I killed him, he’s dead, and the wizarding world is at peace again. I don’t know why they want to continually bring it up. Besides, without me around they can snog and shag in peace.’

Ginny tried not to laugh. ‘I don’t know about the shagging part,’ she said, thinking about her conversation with Hermione from earlier. 

‘Hermione not giving it up, yet, then?’

‘I don’t think _Hermione’s_ the problem.’

‘What!’ cried Harry. ‘ _Ron_ doesn’t want to have sex? What’s wrong with him?’

Ginny shrugged. ‘Overshadowed his entire life by friends and family – he has some inferiority complexes. Hermione’s only mildly fussed about it, but don’t say anything to Ron! She’d kill me. They don’t need sex to have a solid relationship anyway.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Harry, looking particularly contemplative.

‘Ron didn’t sleep with Lavender, did he?’

‘You’ve asked me that before,’ said Harry, ‘and the answer is still the same: No.’

‘Just making sure. Hermione ...’

‘Hermione what?’ pressed Harry.

‘Well, let’s just say that she has less experience than Ron’s had at any rate. She’s brought the issue up a few times, but Ron’s always demurred. Can’t imagine why. If anyone should be scared, it should be Hermione. Sex hurts the first time for girls.’

Harry finally turned and looked at her for the first time since he sat down. ‘And you know this from personal experience?’ he asked, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

‘What? That Muggle girl—’

‘She has a name,’ said Harry irritably. ‘Ellie.’

‘All right, fine. _Ellie_. So you’re saying that Ellie didn’t complain of pain when you fucked her?’

Harry flinched at Ginny’s harsh language. ‘No. I mean – no, we never did _that_.’

Ginny blinked in surprise. ‘What? I thought you had.’

‘No. Never. I ... well, I didn’t want to. Not with _her_.’

‘Oh,’ said Ginny. ‘ _Oh_.’ Shite. Was he implying that he was waiting for _her_? That was not something she needed to be hearing.

‘You didn’t answer my question.’

Ginny looked away from Harry and flopped back onto the grass, looking up at the sky. The clouds passed by slowly, big cottony masses, following one another east with the wind. This would be the perfect time to come clean with Harry. She was closer to him than she was Ron or Hermione. And if anyone needed to know what had happened with Draco, it was Harry. He deserved the truth – deserved to know the reason why she was no longer in love with him. She loved Draco – was _in love_ with Draco. And even though she knew this, when she first saw Harry, her heart did flutter just a bit. The feelings for him hadn’t completely dissolved, and she wasn’t sure they would ever, but they were far less intense. It seemed as though her heart mildly fancied him. The hard pangs had disappeared and she was left with a slight flutter when he entered her thoughts. 

‘Yes,’ said Ginny, ‘I know from personal experience.’ She dared a look at Harry and his expression was one of confusion.

‘You do? With—?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Surely not Dean?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No, not Dean and not Michael either.’

‘It wasn’t me.’

‘Good observation,’ said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

‘Then, who ...’ His voice trailed off and a look of horror crossed his face. ‘Holy shit.’

‘Harry—’ Ginny reached out to touch him but he pushed her hand away, recoiling as though she had a contagious disease.

‘Not _him_.’

‘If you’re referring to Draco Malfoy, then the answer is yes.’

Harry looked as though someone had just punched him in the gut. The look of betrayal was not lost on Ginny and a feeling of the most intense guilt filled her entire body, causing it to ache right down to her fingertips. He looked as if he might cry. 

‘How could you?’ he demanded. ‘With _him_? After everything he’s done to your family! After every his father’s done! And to me! What about all the shite he’s done to _me_?’

‘He’s not his father,’ defended Ginny.

‘So, some bloke just takes you away from England and you decide it’s a nice time to fuck?’

‘Don’t say that!’ cried Ginny. ‘It’s not like that! You don’t understand!’

‘So make me understand!’ roared Harry.

Ginny swallowed. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘All right. We’ve been sort of seeing one another since a bit after Christmas.’

‘ _What_?’ cried Harry. ‘Are you mad?’

‘Probably. But he’s different than you think. He’s an arrogant git, for sure, but he can be nice as well. He risked his life for me.’

‘Did he?’

‘Yes. Voldemort told him to rape me and torture me, but he didn’t do it. His father gave me this’ – Ginny lifted up her shirt just enough to reveal the nasty scar on her stomach – ‘and wanted to rape me and torture me himself, but Draco wouldn’t let him. I passed out and I was going to die, but Draco took me to a hospital and instead of leaving me there, he took me to Sicily with him and _took care of me_. I know you don’t think him capable of such a thing, but it’s true. He helped me get better.’

‘I don’t believe it. When has Malfoy ever done anything for anyone else?’

‘He does things for me. We bicker all the time. He’s arrogant and selfish and he thinks he’s superior to everyone else and he doesn’t always give in just to let me win a fight. He’s the same Draco you know, only he loves me.’

Harry began to laugh.

‘It’s not funny!’ Ginny shouted. ‘It’s true! He bought me clothes and let me decorate the flat we were living in. He never pushed me for anything. He didn’t take advantage of me. You should be grateful that he _does_ love me.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Because _he_ had the Horcrux. If I hadn’t convinced him, he never would have sent it to you. He would have been perfectly happy letting the war wage on until one of you died of old age. But he let me owl you the cup so that the war _could_ end, because he knew how important it was to me.’

‘That sounds like a load of rubbish,’ said Harry. ‘I’m not grateful he fancies himself in love with you – or you with him. I never thought I’d lose you to my second greatest enemy. _Draco Malfoy_ , Ginny! For fuck’s sake, why him?’

‘Because he never let me go!’ shouted Ginny, reaching her breaking point. ‘He knew he could be killed if anyone found out about us! He knew how dangerous it was! And yet he didn’t give me up! He risked everything, his life, his fortune, _everything_ that was important to him to be with me. Don’t you understand that? If he didn’t love me, he would have pushed me away, but he didn’t. He wanted me around and he took care of me. He may never admit these things, especially not to you, but they’re all true. You let me go Harry. And he found me.’

Harry looked utterly dejected. ‘I let you go because—’

‘I know, for some noble reason. If you loved me enough, you would have risked everything. “The power the Dark Lord knows not” was love, Harry. I was in love with you. I worshipped you. I would have done anything – everything – for you, but you didn’t let me. You tossed me aside instead.’

‘I didn’t _toss_ you aside.’

Ginny shrugged. ‘I love you, Harry, I really do. I want to be friends. You’ve always been a part of my life and I know that one day you and Ron are going to get jobs and get a flat together and drink Firewhisky, telling stories until you pass out about the good-looking birds you've tried to get with. And I want to know about those things. I want to be able to go to your flat and nag the two of you to clean up after yourselves and stop throwing your dirty socks on the settee. But you’ll have to stop being angry with me first.’

‘I’m not angry,’ said Harry. 

‘Or hurt. I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew you’d be upset, but you can’t help who you fall in love with.’

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t stand to hear the words.’

‘What words?’

‘That you love him. That you’ve had sex with him.’ Harry cringed even as he said the words himself.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ginny. ‘I really am. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re the last person I’d ever want to hurt. But Draco’s going back to Sicily in a few days and if I don’t go with him, then it’s over.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah. It’s not _his_ condition, but he’s not staying in England and I don’t think my parents would be too keen on having a Malfoy for a son-in-law.’

‘Oh, God, you’re not thinking of marrying him, are you?’

‘No, no, no,’ answered Ginny quickly. ‘I just meant that I don’t think my parents would allow such a thing.’

‘You’re seventeen now. August eleventh wasn’t too long ago. They can’t tell you what to do anymore.’

‘The Burrow is my home. I want to know that I’ll always be able to come back to it. I can’t choose between Draco and my family.’

‘What makes you think they’d force you to choose?’

Ginny shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You’re willing to give him up for your family?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Ginny honestly. ‘I feel as though if I’d fallen in love with him five years from now I’d choose him, but Charlie, Fred, and Percy are gone. I can’t leave so soon. Bill isn’t even out of hospital yet and George has holed himself up in his shop. I haven’t even _seen_ him yet. He’s worse than you.’

Harry frowned. ‘Bad timing, then.’

Ginny shrugged. ‘I’m not staying out of some sense of duty. I’m staying because I want to stay. I _need_ to stay. And I love my family dearly, I really do. Besides, someone needs to back Hermione up when Ron gets out of line.’

Harry smirked. ‘Right.’

‘Are you still angry?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘I never thought I’d lose you to him.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’ve said that already.’

‘Well, it’s the truth. You shouldn’t wait for me. If we’re really meant to happen, then we’ll happen. It’s not something you can force. Move on with your life. Meet some nice girl in Auror training. Chat her up.’

‘I don’t want girl advice from my ex-girlfriend.’

‘Would you rather have the advice from Hermione?’

‘No. She’d tell me the same thing.’

Ginny smiled. ‘I know. She’s very clever. She knows what’s she talking about, doesn’t she? I’m sorry things worked out like this.’

‘So am I. Are you going to go back to him when things calm down around here?’

‘I don’t know. He doesn’t want to come back to England and I don’t know if I stayed here for a while if he’d even take me back.’

‘Look, Gin,’ started Harry, his face pale and sad, ‘if he doesn’t take you back, then I’ll kill him for breaking your heart. And I’ll take Ron with me.’

Ginny smiled again. ‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it. Besides, maybe once he’s dead, I’ll get my chance with you back.’

XXXXXXX

Harry left Ginny sitting by the lake and went back to finish the game of Quidditch. She sat there for a while, thinking about things, before deciding to gather herself up and go back to The Burrow. She was surprised to find Ron, Harry, and Hermione still outside. Hermione had her wand out, conjuring birds that flew away. She seemed to be trying to teach Ron and Harry the same spell.

‘Hi,’ said Ginny.

Hermione looked up and offered a smile, but it seemed like a feeble attempt. Ron didn’t acknowledge her presence at all.

‘Finish the game?’

‘Yes,’ answered Hermione. ‘Ron and me against Harry. We tied.’

‘No thanks to you,’ said Ron, glaring over at his sister.

‘Grow up,’ snarled Ginny. ‘You don’t have to be so nasty all the time. You _know_ I’m hurt.’

‘It’s a good excuse,’ Ron countered.

‘ _What_? It’s not an excuse – it’s the truth. What’s your problem?’

‘Nothing.’

‘If you’re going to be such an arse, I’m going inside,’ huffed Ginny, taking off towards the kitchen door to The Burrow. She swung it open. Neville was reading aloud from the _Daily Prophet_ to Mrs Weasley who was making bread. Ginny was about to go up the stairs when the door opened again from behind her and Ron stepped inside.

‘You want to know what my problem is?’ he shouted, causing Mrs Weasley to drop her spoon and look angry at the sudden outburst.

Harry and Hermione crept inside after Ron, looking nervous.

‘Please, Ronald, enlighten me.’

‘You were off having a grand time with Draco bloody Malfoy while the rest of us risked our lives fighting against Voldemort.’

‘I wasn’t having a grand time!’ Ginny shouted back. ‘I was hurt. I almost _died_. I was in hospital for a month. How the ruddy _hell_ did you expect me to come home and fight when I could barely walk five blocks without feeling like I was going to pass out from pain? You saw me outside! I’m _still_ in pain.’

‘If you’d wanted to come home and fight you would have, no matter what kind of pain you were in,’ said Ron. ‘He’s changed you. Turned you against us.’

‘That’s rubbish. What is _wrong_ with you? I’m the exact same person I was before I ever got kidnapped by Death Eaters. I would have fought if I could! I wouldn’t have helped anyone by fighting!’

‘Is that what _you_ think or is that what _he_ told you?’

‘What are you on about?’ said Ginny. ‘Are you really that upset that I didn’t help fight?’

‘Both of you, stop this right now!’ Mrs Weasley yelled, but her two children ignored her.

‘Yeah, I am! If you’d been there then maybe Charlie or Fred would still be here!’ shouted Ron, turning red in the face. ‘Instead you were too busy opening up your knees for someone who’s hated you for seven years!’

Ginny’s temperature rose again and she felt enraged. She could feel her body start to shake and she clenched her fists to try to help herself keep composure.

‘I told you to _stop it_!’ Mrs Weasley yelled again, but to Ginny it only sounded like background noise; it barely registered at all.

‘We were risking our lives, fighting for the wizarding world and you were buying clothes and decorating flats in Sicily!’

‘Harry, why’d you tell him!’ cried Ginny, looking at Harry. ‘You made me sound like a useless bint!’

‘I didn’t know it was supposed to be a bloody secret,’ he snapped, looking as though he wanted to escape from the kitchen.

‘Well, it’s certainly not a secret now!’ said Ginny, looking back at Ron. ‘And you don’t know anything about it.’

‘No? The old Ginny would have done anything to fight. The old Ginny loved her family enough to come home instead of shagging the local pure-blood.’

Ginny felt something inside her pop and she marched over to Ron, raised her hand, and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

‘ _Fuck you_!’ she shouted.

Ron’s jaw dropped open and his hand flew up to his cheek. There was a small white handprint where she slapped him, the skin around it turning bright red. He looked more furious than Ginny had ever seen him before, but he didn’t scare her. His hand shot out and hit the counter next to the kitchen sink, causing three glasses to fly across the room and hit the floor, shattering them and scattering broken pieces across the room.

‘BOTH OF YOU!’ Mrs Weasley bellowed. ‘STOP THIS INSTANT!’

Ginny and Ron both heard her this time and they turned to look at her.

‘I don’t know what is going on – although I have a good idea now’ – she looked pointedly at her daughter – ‘but I am not going to tolerate fighting or that kind of language in my house. You can either make up, shut up, or get out.’

‘Fine,’ said Ginny. ‘I’ll get out.’

She pushed past Ron and filed herself in between Hermione and Harry and left through the kitchen door.

XXXXXXX

Ginny found herself standing on the doorstep of Malfoy Mansion, just having had the most bizarre conversation with Stan Shunpike of the Knight Bus, who had been released from prison with a clean slate in the middle of her sixth year.

She wrung her hands together and contemplated going back home when the door opened. A small house-elf that Ginny recognised from the memories Draco shared with her stood on the other side.

‘You are Ginny Weasley, aren’t you, miss?’

Ginny nodded. ‘How did you know?’

‘Bitty saw you last time you was here.’

‘Oh,’ said Ginny. ‘Is Draco home?’

‘Yes, young sir is here. In the ballroom, miss.’

‘Can I see him?’

‘Oh, Bitty doesn’t know if that’s a good idea. Young sir has been most foul – oh! Bitty shouldn’t have said that!’

‘Don’t worry, Bitty, it’s all right. Show me where Draco is. He won’t punish you, I promise.’

Bitty nodded her little head and showed Ginny into the house. She walked her through several rooms until they reached a large room with marble floors and a wall made entirely of mirrors. Five chandeliers hung from the painted ceiling, with candles lit and flickering.

Ginny spotted Draco going through a stack of framed paintings a few metres away. He turned and saw her, dropping the painting in his hand. It landed on the hard floor with a loud bang.

Without being able to help herself, Ginny ran over to Draco and flung her arms around him. Fresh tears fell from her eyes and she sobbed into his shoulder the way she had wanted to cry all day long. Somewhere in the midst of her cry, she had sunk to her knees and her head ended up on Draco’s lap, soaking his trousers with her tears. His hands played with her hair as she cried, but it felt good. This was the type of comfort she needed.

Once she calmed down, she said, ‘Ron said the most horrible things – and Charlie, Percy, and Fred are dead.’

‘What?’

‘They died in the battle,’ sniffed Ginny, pulling back from Draco. ‘Hermione and Ron told me last night.’

‘I see.’

Ginny sniffled. ‘I miss them. I didn’t get to say goodbye or anything. I wasn’t really close to Charlie or Percy, but they were still my brothers, and Fred ...’ Ginny shut her eyes and took in a deep breath. ‘Fred and I were pretty close, though. Not as close as he and George were, but ... I’m sorry – I didn’t know where else to go and I wanted to see you.’

‘Did you?’

Ginny nodded. ‘I knew if I could hug you I’d feel better.’

‘I had this dream a while back,’ said Draco, ‘where you were here.’

‘Here? At Malfoy Mansion?’

‘No, the ballroom. For whatever daft reason, we were dancing.’

Ginny smiled and rubbed her nose. ‘In here? That’s a lovely dream.’

‘Mmm,’ Draco hummed. ‘I didn’t know why I dreamt it, but I remembered it.’

‘Maybe one day we _will_ dance in here.’

‘I doubt that.’

‘You never know.’

‘Aye,’ he said with a shrug, ‘I suppose we never know.’ 

Ginny took him in. She had not gone more than a few hours without seeing him in the past couple months. His hair was slicked back away from his face and his eyes looked down at her past the end of his pointed nose. The black shirt he wore was partially unbuttoned near his neck and the sleeves were rolled up.

‘Why are you here, Ginny?’ he asked. ‘I booked a seat for myself on the Duchess Express for the day after tomorrow.’

‘You said you’d give me a week!’

‘I know,’ said Draco, ‘but I spent all day going through my possessions and I’ve marked the things I’m going to take back with me and the things that are going to stay here. There’s no reason for me to stay. And you’re not going to come with me, either.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Ginny, I’m not a fool.’

‘I want to go,’ she whispered. ‘I do, you know I do, but three of my brothers _died_. I can’t disappear again.’

‘So tell them where you are going.’

‘It doesn’t work like that. My family needs time to adjust, to heal. I need to be with them. I have to stay in England.’

Draco shrugged. ‘That’s your decision.’

‘I wish that things were different,’ said Ginny. ‘I wish—’

‘Shut up,’ said Draco, removing his hands from her shoulder and hair and standing up. Ginny looked up at him; his expression was hard, angry, and his eyes were fixed straight ahead of him. She turned her head around to see what he was looking at. It was her brother ... and Harry.

‘What are you doing here?’ Ginny demanded, standing up herself, only she had to stop mid-way to clutch at her stomach and wait for the pain to ease.

‘Your mum asked us to come and get you,’ said Harry. ‘When she said “get out” she meant the kitchen, not the house.’

Ginny shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to be around _him_ anyway,’ replied Ginny, nodding towards Ron.

‘Come home, Gin,’ said Ron, although his eyes were on Draco.

‘No, I’m—’

‘No? Abandoning your family _again_ for him?’ he said nastily. 

‘Ron, that’s not how—’

‘Watch what you say, Weasel. This is _my_ house.’

‘You’re a rotten Death Eater!’ cried Ron, looking at Draco’s arm; the Dark Mark was visible beneath the rolled up bit of his shirt sleeve.

‘ _Was_ a Death Eater,’ said Draco rather calmly. ‘I’m not one anymore. Not like that matters to you.’

‘Why should it?’

‘Ron, we should probably just go,’ said Harry, looking up at his friend.

‘Listen to Potter,’ said Draco, ‘that’s the cleverest thing he’s ever said.’

‘I’ll come back later,’ said Ginny, looking at Harry, ‘when Ron’s had some time to cool off. Was Mum angry?’

‘Only that you and Ron fought and that you left the house. She didn’t say anything about – about—’

‘About Draco?’

Harry shrugged. ‘No.’

‘I’ll come back later,’ Ginny reiterated. ‘Don’t tell Mum where I was. I’ll deal with _this_ once the shock of Charlie and Fred and Percy has worn off some more, when everyone’s more rational.’

Just as Harry took hold of Ron’s arm, presumably to try and lead him out of the ballroom, three men in Auror robes walked in. Two of them were large, well over six feet tall and thick with muscle. They both had their wands out, pointing straight ahead. The third one, a tall but slender black witch, held a roll of parchment in her hand and a stern look on her face.

‘Mr Draco Malfoy,’ the female Auror said, walking over to him and handing him the parchment. ‘This document has been signed by the Minister for Magic giving us permission for an immediate arrest of—’

‘Arrest for what?’ asked Ginny, alarmed.

‘The Ministry is arresting all known and suspected Death Eaters, but by that brand on your arm, Mr Malfoy, convicting and sending you to Azkaban shouldn’t be very difficult.’

Draco looked furious. ‘I’m not a fucking Death Eater,’ he snarled.

‘You can tell that to the Wizengamot. You’re coming with us.’

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued ...

XXXXXXX

 


	14. Decisions

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Fourteen: Decisions**

XXXXXXX

Ginny watched in horror as the three Aurors Summoned Draco’s wand and snapped it in half before putting him in a Total Body Bind and levitating him out of the ballroom. Tears prickled her eyes and she clenched her jaw to try and force herself not to cry in front of Harry and her brother.

‘Gin,’ said Ron, almost tentatively, taking a few steps towards her with his hand out as if to comfort her. 

She slapped his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she yelled. Sudden, intoxicating madness filled her and she turned on Harry. ‘ _Do_ something!’

‘Me? Are you serious?’

‘You’re the bloody Boy Who Lived! You killed Voldemort! They’ll listen to you! Tell them he’s innocent – tell them he’s not a Death Eater.’

‘He has the Dark Mark, Ginny!’

‘So? He sent you the Horcrux – he helped end the war! Please, Harry, you have to help him!’

Harry looked angry and he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I have to help _him_?’

‘Don’t do this,’ pleaded Ginny, ‘don’t make this about you and me. He’s innocent here and you know it. You’re going to let him rot in Azkaban out of spite? Sirius was innocent as well, remember?’

‘Malfoy _was_ a Death Eater,’ said Ron.

‘ _Was_ – not _is_.’ Ginny looked up at Ron; his blue eyes bore into her. ‘You don’t know him like I do.’

‘I don’t think _anyone_ knows him like you do.’

‘Ron, don’t,’ said Harry.

Ron turned, his eyes narrowing dangerously. ‘ _Don’t_?’

‘Leave her alone.’

‘This is ridiculous!’ cried Ron. ‘I’m getting out of here.’ Ron closed his eyes and looked as though he was concentrating very hard. ‘Fuck! Who’s heard of a house where you can’t Disapparate from?’ With a loud huff, he stomped from the ballroom. 

 

‘Thank you,’ said Ginny. ‘You didn’t have—’

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ said Harry.

‘But—’

‘But _what_ , Gin? Nothing you can say will make the situation any better.”

‘Why did you tell Ron?’

Harry swallowed. ‘It wasn’t planned. It slipped out and once it was out ... I’m sorry.’

‘Are you? Are you actually sorry?’

Harry looked at her for almost a minute before answering. ‘No.’

‘I didn’t think so.’

‘I didn’t mean to say it, but I think I needed to say it. I’m trying not to be angry or hurt, but I feel disgusted. We need to go home. Your mum’s going to worry.’

‘I can’t Apparate.’

Harry looked at her for a few moments before nodding. ‘We’ll do Side-Along. Come on.’

XXXXXXX

They Apparated back to The Burrow. Ginny had to ready herself before entering the house. She stayed outside for nearly ten minutes before she walked into the kitchen, mentally preparing herself for a long discussion about the fight between Ron and her.

 

‘Hi,’ said Ginny, looking up at her mother. ‘I didn’t mean to just ... leave. I was always planning on coming back. You didn’t need to send anyone to get me.’

‘Where’d they find you?’ asked Mrs Weasley.

‘The first place we looked,’ mumbled Ron.

Ginny looked over at the kitchen table. Ron was seated next to Hermione; Harry was across from them. Her father was at the end, holding a glass of pumpkin juice, studying it as though it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

‘I was at Draco’s,’ said Ginny.

‘I don’t want to hear that name!’ cried Mrs Weasley. ‘How can you say his name at a time like this?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ginny began, but her mum interrupted her.

‘How _could_ you? With a _Malfoy_? Ginevra Weasley, you were raised better than that!’

‘Better than _what_?’ Ginny challenged. ‘Better than giving someone a second chance? Better than giving someone the benefit of the doubt? Better than _forgiving_ someone for their bad deeds when all they’ve done for you are good ones? Better than what, Mum?’

Mrs Weasley looked incensed. Her face turned the colour of a tomato and her hands formed tightly-clenched fists. ‘We certainly did not teach our daughter to go off’ – she lowered her voice severely – ‘ _having sex_ with Death Eaters.’

‘He’s not a Death Eater. He stopped being a Death Eater as soon as he was face-to-face with Dumbledore. Draco didn’t have it in him to kill someone.’

‘But he let the Death Eaters into the school!’ said Ron. ‘If that hadn’t happened then Dumbledore wouldn’t be dead!’

Hermione reached over and placed a hand on Ron’s forearm, trying to calm him down. His eyes glanced down at her hand and she shut up, but he didn’t look any less upset.

‘You don’t know anything about it!’ shouted Ginny. ‘So keep your nose out of my business!’

‘What were you thinking?’ demanded Mrs Weasley.

‘I don’t know,’ said Ginny. ‘He’s different!’

‘Let’s be thankful,’ said Mr Weasley, ‘that Malfoy took care of Ginny and didn’t let any harm come to her. It must have been fascinating living among Muggles, then, Gin?’

‘ _Don’t change the subject, Arthur_!’ Mrs Weasley said in a very dangerous tone. Her husband’s cheeks turned red but he didn’t say anything.

‘Dad has a point, Mum,’ said Ginny. ‘He _did_ take care of me. I was so sick. Have you seen what happened to me?’ Ginny lifted up her shirt to reveal the scar to her mother. Mrs Weasley gasped at the crudely-healed wound, the round, raised line, thick and sickening. ‘I cannot even describe how much it hurt. I could hardly walk ... Draco made sure I had food and clothes and a place to stay. He was so very careful not to push me to do things that would hurt me. He was _kind_ , in his own way. Of course he’s still an arrogant prig, but he loves me.’

Mrs Weasley burst into tears.

‘Mum!’ cried Ginny, feeling wretched. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘You know what’s wrong,’ snapped Ron.

‘ _Shh_!’ admonished Hermione, tightening her grip on Ron’s arm.

‘My babies are _Lost_!’ she wailed. ‘I’ll never see them again. I was always too hard on Fred! He was a brilliant businessman. And Percy!’ She sobbed into the palms of her hands. ‘I hope he knows I forgave him! Charlie ... _oh, Charlie!_ ’ Mrs Weasley rubbed her nose and looked at Ginny through teary, bloodshot eyes. ‘And _you_. I never thought I was going to see you again!’

‘But I’m here, Mum. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘And once Malfoy gets out of Azkaban? You’re not going back to him?’

‘I’m staying _here_ ,’ said Ginny firmly, ‘in England with my family. I’m not going back to Sicily.’ 

It wasn’t until that moment that Ginny had made her mind completely up. She told Draco she couldn’t follow him back, not yet anyway, but it wasn’t until _now_ that she knew this to be absolutely true.

Mrs Weasley picked up a dishtowel next to the sink and blew her nose. ‘I hope no one finds out about this. My baby’s reputation will be ruined!’

‘ _Mum_ ,’ groaned Ginny. ‘My reputation won’t be ruined. You think everyone else got married or died a virgin? This is ridiculous. Ron’s the only one I know of in our family who _hasn’t_ had sex.’

‘Shut up,’ Ron said.

‘No, _you_ shut up. Look, there’s no point in getting upset with me. I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I was hurt and Draco took care of me. He loves me and there’s nothing you can do to change it. Getting upset isn’t going to solve anything! And I’m sorry if I tarnished the _good_ Weasley name. Not only are we poor and blood traitors, but we’re sluts as well.’

Mrs Weasley gasped. ‘ _Ginevra_ —’

‘No, Mum, I don’t want to hear it. I _can’t_ hear it. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment, I really am. I love you all. I’m not going back to Sicily because I want to be with all of you. I need you and I missed you so much when I was gone. I kept thinking about you and I was more homesick than I was when I was a first-year. But I didn’t do any of this on purpose. Please forgive me for worrying you lot; I didn’t mean to. If you’re going to be disappointed in me, let it be for not doing more to contact you, to let you know that I’m all right ... but not for doing what every other member of this family has done.’

Mrs Weasley shook her head. ‘Ginny, it’s not—’

‘You and Dad took midnight walks around the castle ... Bill and Fleur let a flat in London together before they were married ... Penny stayed all night in Percy’s room a few times when he was Head Boy – don’t think that the twins and I didn’t use that piece of information to our advantage. He was right upset that we found Mr Perfect Prefect was breaking the rules. Charlie lived with one of the dragon tamers in Romania for two _years_ in the same tent. I’m no different than any of your other kids.’

‘Ohh, Ginny,’ said Mrs Weasley softly, ‘I didn’t mean – of course I’m not _disappointed_ in you as my daughter. We love you. We always assumed you and Harry would end up together and ...’

Ginny snuck a glance at Harry; his face was flushed.

‘... but obviously that ship has sailed.’

‘Obviously.’

‘If it was anyone but a Malfoy. A _Malfoy_. Ginny, after everything Lucius did to your father! And Draco to you and Ron and Harry and Hermione!’

‘I know, Mum, but he’s different now.’

‘We’re not discussing this any further,’ said Mrs Weasley firmly. ‘I’m glad you’re home, but this is no longer an open topic for this family.’

‘You can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.’

‘I’m volunteering tonight at St Mungo’s to help out some of the Healers. The hospital is overrun with patients, have been for months. I need to rest a bit before I Apparate over. I trust you can prepare your own supper?’ Mrs Weasley didn’t wait for an answer before she went up the stairs.

Ginny turned around and looked at her father. He had got up from the table, looking tired and worn, the top of his head almost completely bald now.

‘Dad,’ she began, but he shook his head, stopping her from continuing.

‘It’s late for me to still be awake,’ said Mr Weasley, looking at his wristwatch. ‘I’m going to turn in.’

‘Dad! Wait!’

Mr Weasley walked up the stairs.

‘You’re a selfish brat,’ said Ron.

Ginny took in a deep breath and steadied herself. ‘ _What_?’

‘They don’t want to deal with you and Malfoy. They have more important things to focus on.’

‘Your brothers’ deaths have taken a hard toll on them,’ said Hermione. ‘Your father hasn’t really dealt with it yet. I’m sure they’re happy you’re home, though.’

‘I didn’t mean to make it about me. I didn’t bring it up—’

‘Stop, Gin. I know at Hogwarts you were the most popular girl in your year. Hell, probably our year too, but it’s not always about you.’

‘You lot are all mad! I’m not trying to make this about me!’

‘Then why didn’t you ask how Mum and Dad were doing?’ demanded Ron. ‘How they were feeling after three of their sons died?’

‘I—’

‘You were more interested in bickering about having sex!’

Ginny felt infuriated and ganged up on. She stalked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

XXXXXXX

It was growing increasingly dark outside. Ginny sat on the grass in the back garden, looking at nothing, her mind reeling with everything that had happened. Her dad didn’t seem to be speaking with her, her mum was incensed, Ron was acting like an arse, and Draco was arrested.

 

‘May I sit?’

Ginny tilted her head up. Hermione stood in front of her, tying the belt of her dressing gown. Ginny nodded and the older girl sat cross-legged facing her.

‘I’m sorry everyone seems so miffed at you. If it’s any consolation, I’m not angry. The past few days have been hard to digest. Harry hasn’t really cried, but then, Harry’s not completely in tune with all his emotions, is he? Ron’s up in his room now pushing back tears.’ Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve seen him cry several times already. You’d think he’d stop caring what I think.’

‘He’ll never stop caring,’ said Ginny.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Are you really planning on staying?’

‘I was going to, but now ...’

‘They’ll be crushed if you go back to Malfoy. If he doesn’t get sent to Azkaban, that is.’

‘I don’t know what to do,’ confessed Ginny. ‘Everything is so fucked-up. It wasn’t meant to be like this.’

‘Have you given any thought to going back to Hogwarts? They’re reopening and it _is_ your seventh year.’

‘I hadn’t considered it.’

‘You’re one of my best friends and I want to see you happy, but I don’t know if it’s going to happen here. Ron holds on to grudges. He still cannot stand for anyone to mention Viktor’s name in front of him. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll ever grow up.’

‘So you think Ron’s going to stay angry with me for a while?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I’ve been trying to talk to him, but he doesn’t want to deal with you. I think once the funerals happen and things start to go back to normal he’ll come around. So will Harry.’

‘I didn’t mean to hurt Harry. I would _never_ hurt Harry. I do love him, but I’m not _in_ love with him.’ Ginny covered her face with her hands. ‘I didn’t mean to be selfish and make it all about me.’

‘Ron was just babbling. It’s all right. Don’t worry. He still loves you.’

‘Maybe I will go back to Hogwarts,’ said Ginny. ‘It would be easier than staying here. By the time Christmas comes, life at The Burrow will have some semblance of normalcy, yeah?’

‘As normal as it gets around here.’

‘I don’t know if _I_ can deal with any of this going on. It’s too much for me. Besides, Gryffindor is going to need a new Quidditch Captain.’

‘Ohh? And you think McGonagall will appoint you?’

‘I’ve been on the team longest,’ said Ginny. ‘I hope.’

Hermione smiled. ‘Good. Look, if you ever need to talk, you know where I am.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I won’t tell Ron we talked, all right?’

‘Thanks,’ Ginny repeated.

‘Whatever you decide, go to Sicily, stay at The Burrow, or go to Hogwarts, do it because _you_ want to do it.’

‘I will.’

‘And come find me if you want to talk about this some more.’

‘I will.’

XXXXXXX

Ginny was wired. She tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate. It would be completely futile to even try sleeping. Ginny hoped Hermione was still awake and she got up from the settee in the living room and walked up the stairs. She passed by her room and continued up towards Ron’s, hoping that he and Hermione were talking and not otherwise engaged.

Unfortunately it was the latter as Ginny heard giggles coming from inside her brother’s room.

‘You looked brilliant today in that shirt. It was so bloody tight.’

‘I was under the impression that you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Oh, I noticed. I always notice. Was that the point?’

 

‘Uh huh.’

‘Try to make me notice more often, okay?’

‘ _Ron_! What are you doing? Your parents are—’

‘Dad sleeps like the dead and Mum’s at St Mungo’s until late.’

‘Mmm, Ron ...’

‘You know I love you, yeah?’

‘Yes, of course. I love you as well.’

‘So ... let’s do this. Come here.’

Ginny felt fresh tears prickle her eyes and she turned around, practically running to her bedroom. Slamming the door shut, she flung herself on her bed and cried into her pillow. Of course she was happy Ron and Hermione were finally going to progress in their relationship, but knowing they were happy made her own misery all that more apparent. Deciding she needed a fresh face to look at, Ginny shoved her feet into her new trainers and closed her eyes to calm herself. She went outside and caught the Knight Bus for the second time in the same day.

Diagon Alley was empty at this time of night, but the light in the flat above the joke shop was on. Good. Ginny wanted to see George. She used her wand to conjure a few pebbles and she threw them. They made a tapping noise when they hit the glass and it didn’t take long before George undid the latch and looked down at the street.

‘Ginny?’

‘Hi, George.’

‘What’re you doing here?’

‘So I suppose someone told you I came home?’

‘Yeah, Pig dropped a note from Mum about it.’

‘So ... can I come up?’

‘Er, hold on.’ George disappeared for a moment. When he came back he had his wand in his hand. He aimed it at the door. ‘It’s unlocked.’

Ginny nodded and went up to the front entrance of the store. She turned the knob and went inside. The shop looked much different in the nighttime, with everything in shadow. She went up the stairs to the first floor where the twins had shared a flat together. It was exciting in a way; she’d never seen their place before. _Their place? It’s George’s place now_.

The door to the flat was open and Ginny walked through it and found herself standing in a brightly-decorated living room. The colours of the chairs and settee were loud and bold – electric blue, deep crimson, and shocking lime. The rugs were made of thick carpet and Ginny’s shoes sunk into them. Surprisingly, the paintings on the walls seemed to be Muggle as none of them moved or talked.

‘How are you?’ asked Ginny.

‘D’you want something to drink?’ asked George, avoiding the question.

‘Er, water?’

George turned around and looked at his little sister. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. ‘I meant something _real_. Like Firewhisky or a Chimaera Butter Bomb.’

‘Oh.’ Ginny thought for a moment. Most people would say they needed a drink at a time like this – with her brothers dead and her boyfriend arrested and the rest of her family furious at her. ‘I’ll try a Chimaera Butter Bomb.’

George nodded and motioned for Ginny to follow him into the kitchen. He got out two Butterbeers from the icebox and a bottle of Firewhisky from a cabinet full of liquor bottles – some wizard brands and some Muggle. After he placed the bottles on the kitchen table he got two beer steins with the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes logo etched on them and two shot glasses with similar emblems. 

‘Who’s the girl?’ asked Ginny, noticing a Muggle picture of George and a girl with long blonde hair and a very white smile taped to the wall with Spellotape.

‘Elspeth.’

‘I’ve never heard of her before.’

‘She’s a Muggle,’ said George looking at the picture. ‘I used to do magic for her and pretend they were Muggle magic tricks. She’s from Ottery St Catchpole but moved to London to go to university.’

‘Is she your girlfriend?’

George shrugged.

Ginny grinned. ‘I think that’s a yes. Does Dad know about her? He’d be ecstatic to meet a Muggle.’

‘She’s not ready to meet Dad. He knows about her, though. She only found out that I do real magic a few months ago. Fred ...’ George swallowed. ‘Fred slipped up and accidentally gave her a Nosebleed Nougat ... Needless to say she figured out I was a real wizard.’ George sat down at the kitchen table and opened one of the bottles of Butterbeer. He divided it out into the two steins and pushed one of them towards Ginny.

‘She’s really pretty,’ said Ginny, sitting down at the table.

George shrugged. ‘Yeah.’

‘Does she know about Fred?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘She has a flat with two girls from her school. I got Dad to set up the fireplace in her bedroom to the Floo Network so she’s been in and out. No other way for her to come into Diagon Alley, y’know? She can never remember what bricks to tap. The whole magical bit is a tad beyond her.’ George took a deep breath and filled the two shot glasses with Firewhisky. ‘Here.’ He set the shot glass in front of Ginny. ‘You drop it into your Butterbeer and then chug the entire thing. Got it?’

‘I know what a Chimaera Butter Bomb is,’ said Ginny. ‘I’ve seen you and Fred do them all the time.’

‘Right.’ George dropped his shot glass in his beer stein and brought it up to his lips. 

Ginny followed suit; the mixed liquid burned as it dripped down her throat, but she managed to drink the entire thing. Her eyes watered and she felt her sinuses clear. ‘Wow,’ she breathed, ‘that’s hard stuff.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why do they call it a Chimaera Butter Bomb?’

‘Haven’t the faintest.’

‘Have you been drinking all this time?’

‘All this time? It’s only been a few days, Gin.’

‘I know. Have you been to see Bill?’

George nodded. ‘Once, the other night.’

‘Mum said—’

‘I don’t care what Mum said. Or Dad. Or Ron, Hermione, or Neville. I don’t want to see any of them.’

‘No one really told me what happened ...’

George held the bottle of Firewhisky in his hands, studying the torn label. ‘We were fighting a couple of Death Eaters, a witch named Alecto and some bloke called Jugson. Harry said You-Know-Who didn’t know all the Horcruxes were destroyed so he was rather cocky-like. Told all his Death Eaters to “do their worst”. I was battling with Alecto when Jugson sent a curse at me and I wasn’t expecting it. Fred, uh, tackled me to the ground, but the – the curse hit him and ... well you know the rest.’

‘The Killing Curse?’

‘No,’ said George, his eyes moving from the bottle to Ginny’s face. ‘It was _Creare-incruentatum_.’

‘I’ve never heard of that.’

George shook his head. ‘Neither had I. The Healers at St Mungo’s told Bill that all of Fred’s blood had disappeared from his body. I thought I heard Jugson say _Creer-incrucium_ , but the Healers said there wasn’t a spell like that, so I must have heard the other thing.’

‘They _Vanished_ all his _blood_?’

George nodded and set the bottle down on the table. ‘That’s actually what it’s called: the Vanishing Blood Curse. I don’t suppose it’s used very often. The Killing Curse is instant; you don’t know that it’s hit you, but with this blood curse, you sort-of realise ...’ He rubbed his eyes, making them even redder. ‘The curse was supposed to be for _me_ , but Fred had to be bloody noble.’

‘Don’t blame yourself,’ said Ginny gently. ‘I miss him as well. I think that if maybe I had come home and fought I could have helped prevent Charlie or Fred or ... Percy.’

‘Why didn’t you come home? Malfoy keep you hostage? I’ll kill him.’

‘No, no,’ said Ginny. ‘There’s already been several fights at home about him. He didn’t kidnap me or keep me hostage. I was hurt and almost died. Did they tell you that?’

George shrugged. ‘Maybe. Part of it.’

‘Well, I wasn’t quite strong enough to fight. I don’t know if that’s true,’ said Ginny looking down at her hands. ‘I mean, I still have these really bad pains in my stomach, but I can’t help but think that I might have been able to fight despite them.’

‘Unless you’re in the middle of a battle and get a pain and lose your concentration. Then you’d be another Weasley to be buried next week.’

‘Is that when the funerals are?’

 

‘All of them,’ said George. ‘There’s a large memorial service at the graveyard at Hogwarts. Normally only professors and headmasters and mistresses are buried there, but Dad owled me to say that they’re burying everyone who died in the last battle there ... as homage to them ... so none of the students will ever forget.’

‘No one’s told me.’

George shrugged. ‘Did you want to fight?’

 

‘Yes,’ whispered Ginny, reaching for the Firewhisky. ‘Part of me knows that I probably couldn’t, that I probably would have been killed, but another part of me wishes that I had at least tried.’

‘It’s better that you didn’t,’ said George, shutting his eyes. ‘I don’t think I could handle my only sister and my twin both being dead.’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind. Are you going to drink that?’

Ginny poured herself a shot. ‘This is probably not the way to deal with our pain.’

‘What’s your pain?’

‘They were my brothers, too!’ cried Ginny. ‘And my boyfriend was arrested today. Not to mention I slapped Ron in front of Mum and she and Dad aren’t really speaking to me.’

‘Your boyfriend?’

‘Draco.’

George was silent for a moment. ‘I think I’m going to need that bottle back.’

‘I was living with him in Sicily.’

‘For Merlin’s sake! Everyone was worried sick about you! And you were off having a grand time in bloody Sicily?’

‘It’s not like that!’ cried Ginny. ‘I came here – I thought you’d be rational – you’re just like Ron—’

‘Sit down,’ said George as Ginny started to stand up. ‘I’m serious: Sit back down. So everyone’s angry with you not because you were off with Malfoy, but because you were _with_ Malfoy ...’

‘Something like that.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘I didn’t come here to talk about me,’ said Ginny. ‘I came here because I needed someone rational to talk with in general. Plus, I didn’t know when I was going to get to see you.’

‘I haven’t felt much like going out.’

Ginny breathed in deeply and lifted the shot glass to her lips. After she made sure the Firewhisky was staying down in her stomach, she looked back up at George. ‘Does Mum care that you’re dating a Muggle?’

‘No. Should she?’

‘No. But if she’s going to be accepting of your relationship, she should be accepting of mine.’

‘I think it’s completely difference.’

‘I think it’s exactly the same.’

‘How?’

‘Both our relationships are unconventional. None of us have ever dated anyone who wasn’t a witch or wizard, yeah? Now you’re the first one dating a Muggle and I’m the first one dating a Malfoy.’

‘It’s not the same,’ said George. ‘We all thought you were going to end up with Harry.’

‘I know.’

‘Fred and I used to talk about who was going to get married first – you and Harry or Ron and Hermione.’

‘Ron and Hermione,’ said Ginny dryly.

‘That’s what Fred always said.’ George opened the second bottle of Butterbeer and divided it out between the two beer steins. ‘Ready for another?’ he asked as he poured two shots of Firewhisky.

‘My head already feels fuzzy.’

‘That’s what’s supposed to happen, y’know.’

‘Drinking isn’t going to bring Fred back.’

‘Drinking isn’t going to keep Malfoy from being sent to Azkaban either.’

Ginny dropped the shot into the half-filled mug. ‘Cheers.’

‘I miss him,’ said George. ‘I’ve never been alone before. I mean, sure he had his various dates with Angelina when we were sixth- and seventh-years where I wasn’t there, but I had Lee and Alicia to cavort with. The past year and a half or so, I’ve been seeing a lot of Elspeth, but Fred never mentioned it. I’d still come back here to our flat most nights. No matter how hard I pounded on the wall that separated our bedrooms, I could still hear him snoring. I didn’t like to charm my room so I could get some sleep because somehow it always ended up silencing everything, including my alarm.’

Ginny smiled. ‘You and Fred were brilliant together. Your shop is successful and everybody loved you two. Always the life of the party.’

George nodded. ‘That’s us. But I think Fred was the funnier one.’

‘You were always more contemplative. A thinker.’

‘We both came up with the joke ideas, but I was better at _making_ them whereas Fred invented the ideas. He helped of course ... People think we were exactly the same.’

‘You weren’t,’ said Ginny. ‘I noticed the differences over the years. When Hermione refused to let you try out your tricks on the first-years, you were both pretty hacked off, but you weren’t as upset as Fred was. I think you fancied her. You always liked the brainy girls. Fred always liked the athletic, brilliant-looking ones.’

‘Fancied Hermione? You’re off your rocker, little sis.’

‘Am I? Were you or weren’t you considering asking her to the Yule Ball?’

George shrugged. ‘She’s cute and clever, but I did not _fancy_ her. Fred would’ve taken the mickey out of me if I had.’

‘I’m sure he would have.’

‘I used to taunt him terribly when he fancied Angelina. The sodding idiot practically drooled over her,’ said George with a weak laugh. ‘But when he realised I liked Elspeth, he didn’t utter a word about it. They got on well themselves.’

‘That’s good, though, isn’t it?’

George nodded. ‘She was right upset herself when she found out the news. Cried for a bit. Fred wasn’t – he wasn’t just a brother, he was my best friend. It’s as though that Death Eater took away my left arm or something. It’s like I can’t function properly.’

‘It’ll be all right. Everyone’s going through a rough time. Mum practically flooded the kitchen today she cried so much ... about Charlie and Fred and Percy, and then she cried about me, and then she cried because she hasn’t seen you at all. Dad didn’t cry. I don’t think he’s dealing with any of it.’

‘Really? Dad’s always been the grounded one. Sure, he’s flighty about Muggle paraphernalia, but overall, he’s more down-to-earth than Mum.’

‘Dad’s not dealing very well,’ said Ginny. ‘He told me he missed me and was glad I was back, but ...’ She shrugged. ‘The news is still new. I’ve already cried enough for two lifetimes, I think.’

‘That’s why I don’t want to go home,’ said George. ‘Even more memories to deal with and I don’t want anyone to see me cry.’

‘Crying’s all right, though,’ said Ginny.

‘When I look in the mirror, I see him.’

‘George – you have the same face!’

‘It’s different now.’

‘Come home,’ said Ginny. ‘At least for a little bit. Mum really wants to see you.’

A noise from the other room interrupted their conversation. George got up and went into the living room. Ginny followed, but hung back when she noticed a head floating in the middle of the fireplace, surrounded by green flames.

‘Do you want me to come over?’ a soft, feminine voice asked.

‘Please,’ said George. ‘How about in twenty minutes?’

‘All right. I’ll see you then.’

‘Was that Elspeth?’ asked Ginny when the head disappeared.

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll go ahead and go.’

‘You don’t—’

‘No, I will. Thanks for talking to me. I just needed conversation,’ said Ginny. ‘Everything is so confusing with Charlie, Percy, and Fred, and everything else. I feel overwhelmed. But those Chimaera Butter Bombs helped.’

Ginny crossed the room and hugged her older brother. 

‘G’night,’ he said and Ginny Floo’ed home.

XXXXXXX

Someone at Hogwarts must have known Ginny was thinking of returning because the next day she got an owl containing her seventh-year booklist and new rules and policies. A second owl came around lunchtime from her father. In his sloppy scrawl was written the time and date of Draco’s trial. Although, from the sounds of the note, it didn’t sound as though there was going to be much of a trial.

Two days later, a Friday, Ginny had her trunk packed to go back to school. She and her mother were getting on well, but they hadn’t broached the subject of Draco at all. Her relationship with Ron was strained, but at least they hadn’t fought. Harry, on the other hand, had been avoiding her as though she had Exploding Dragon Boils or something.

Sunday seemed very far away, even though it was only two days away. Ginny knew going back to Hogwarts was the best idea for her, but leaving _everything_ behind seemed so much more powerful this time. Not only was she going somewhere without her family, she was going somewhere without Draco. It would be a good time for her to re-evaluate the things in her life, to decide what was most important to her, and to get enough NEWTs to get a good job after school. 

After breakfast, Ginny got dressed and prepared to grab the Knight Bus into London. She wanted to see if she couldn’t testify for Draco during his trial. Unfortunately, when she got to the ninth level of the Ministry, she was told that all trials concerning Death Eaters were closed and she was asked to leave. The only reason she ended up being able to wait outside the courtroom was because she was the daughter of a Ministry worker.

The courtroom doors remained closed for over three hours, but Ginny refused to leave. Finally, the doors opened and the members of the Wizengamot stepped out. Ginny had to wait for all of them to pass before she saw Draco.

‘Wait, stop!’ Ginny cried. She watched as the two Aurors escorting Draco, hands bound behind his back, stopped and turned their heads towards her. ‘Can I – can I have a minute with him?’

‘No,’ said the female Auror, tossing her head back so her hair moved out of her eyes. 

‘McLarty,’ a voice boomed from behind Ginny. She turned around; Kingsley Shacklebolt stood by the door to the courtroom. ‘Malfoy’s bound, he won’t escape. You have two minutes, Ginny.’

‘Thanks.’ 

 

The two Aurors on either side of Draco let go of his arms and walked down the corridor. They were out of earshot, but they kept their eyes on him.

‘How long—’

‘Three months,’ he said.

‘That’s not so bad,’ said Ginny, trying to lighten the mood. ‘I’ll wait for you—’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘Well, I’m going back to Hogwarts next week for my last year. But once I’m out of school—’

 

‘No,’ said Draco, looking down the corridor towards the Aurors. ‘That’s almost a year away. Let’s not make this a big deal, all right? You belong with Potter and I belong ... anywhere but here.’

‘I don’t want Harry. I want _you_.’

Draco shrugged. ‘Don’t make a scene. You can hang on to your memories, or whatever it is you girls do in these situations. And we’ll both move on.’

‘What about your dream of us dancing in the ballroom at your house?’

‘Dreams are for titchy first-years, Ginny! No one ever gets what they want. Miracles don’t happen and dreams are broken. So grow up and stop acting like such a child, thinking everything will be all right as long as we love each other, because you loving me has only caused you trouble. Just – go home, go to Hogwarts, get a job at the Ministry, marry Potter, have ten ruddy children, and forget about me. It’ll make both our lives easier in the end.’

‘No—’

‘I’ve got to go. I’m a criminal now, remember? Not only am I a Malfoy, but I’m a convict. If there was ever a reason not to wait for me, there are two good ones right there. Now, _I’ve got to go_.’

Draco walked down the corridor, arms bound at the wrist behind his back. The Aurors returned to their positions on either side of him as they rounded the corner and went out of sight. Ginny didn’t understand why Draco wouldn’t let her wait for him. Didn’t he still love her? Ginny pushed back her tears and held her head high as she left the Ministry.

XXXXXXX

‘You can drive?’ asked Ginny, surprised.

Harry shrugged. ‘Last summer when I was at the Dursleys they made me their errand boy. They didn’t actually entrust me with their car, but Figgy lent me hers and they had me going to the market and all sorts of things. You’re not scared to drive me with me, are you?’

‘No. Not really. I’d rather go to King’s Cross with you than my parents. We’re still on thin ice.’

Harry got into the car and unlocked the passenger’s side door. He started up the car and drove down the lane that ran near The Burrow. 

‘Are we going to get there in time?’

‘It’s a Ministry car,’ said Harry. ‘It’ll drive faster. I drove this one over the summer – with Aurors accompanying me of course.’

‘I’m glad you’re taking me. I thought you were avoiding me the past few days.’

‘I was.’

‘Ohh.’

‘But your mum signed up to help at St Mungo’s before she realised you were going to be going back to Hogwarts and your father—’

‘Dad’s still acting weird around me. He told me about Draco’s trial, but we haven’t really spoken to one another.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Give him time.’

‘I’m surprised he told me about the court date, though.’

‘Are you really? That seems like something he’d do. He probably hates the idea of you and Malfoy together, but if Malfoy’s really as nice as you say he is ...’

‘“Nice” isn’t a word I’d use. But, yes, I see your point. I love Dad dearly. I wish he wasn’t angry at me.’

‘Like I said, give him time.’

‘I think you’ve been talking to Hermione.’

Harry nodded. ‘It was her idea for me to drive you. She said it might give us time to talk and smooth things out.’

‘Smart one, Hermione.’

‘I agree.’

Ginny sniffled. ‘I’m sorry. Everything is so fucked-up. I’m going to miss everyone, but I want to go back too.’

‘It’s all right. You’ll see your parents and everyone on Wednesday when they come for the funerals.’

‘That’s right. I almost forgot about that. Will you be there?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Harry? How come you look so ... happy? I honestly thought you’d be brooding once the war was over. I mean, you didn’t look happy about the Draco stuff, but other than that ...’

‘Brooding? Are you mad? I killed Voldemort. No one’s trying to kill me anymore. The three most important people to me are all alive and everyone’s concerned that I’m happy. I don’t see any reason for me to be anything but ecstatic.’

Ginny smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re happy.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Are you still planning on being an Auror?’

‘Eventually. I’m tired of fighting Dark wizards. I think I’ll play Quidditch for a bit. I’ve had a couple offers from Puddlemere and Chudley.’

‘The Cannons! Shite! Does Ron know?’

‘He was offered a position as Reserve Keeper for them, but I think he’s going to go ahead and be an Auror.’

‘Really? I can’t imagine _Ron_ passing up a chance to play Quidditch.’

‘I think it’s Hermione’s doing.’

‘I don’t think Hermione would tell Ron not to play.’

‘No, but he knows she doesn’t think Quidditch can be a lifelong career.’

‘Well, it can’t.’

‘I know,’ said Harry. ‘Ron’s already been accepted into the Auror program. Hermione’s going to work for the Department of Magical Creatures. She’s going back to live with her parents for a bit, then she said she’s going to try and find a couple of flatmates.’

 

‘Why doesn’t she move in with you and Ron?’

Harry laughed. ‘I don’t think your mum could handle that. No, I don’t want to live with Hermione. Although I bet she could make Ron pick up his dirty socks off the floor, though.’

Ginny giggled. ‘I bet she could, too.’

Harry glanced over at her. ‘For what it’s worth, I’d rather you be happy with someone I hate than miserable with me.’

‘I could never be miserable with you.’

‘No?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘No.’

‘What happened at the Ministry?’ asked Harry.

It was a question Ginny had been avoiding since Friday. Unfortunately, in a small car with Harry, she couldn’t ignore it.

‘Draco didn’t want me to wait for him. He wants us to both move on with our lives.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right.’

‘That’s what I plan on doing – moving on with my life.’

‘Good for you, Harry.’

‘Not that I don’t still ... y’know ...’

Ginny nodded. ‘Yeah, I know. Maybe we can see what happens once the school year’s over,’ she said, ‘but I’m going to live my life and you live yours. Don’t waste ten months on me, okay?’

‘I won’t.’

‘And I won’t waste ten months, either.’

‘You are still the perfect first girlfriend.’

‘Thank you. You were the perfect third boyfriend.’

‘If you want me to kill Draco for breaking your heart—’

‘It’s not broken,’ said Ginny, ‘only bruised. I’ll heal.’

They drove the rest of the way to King’s Cross in silence. Once they were on the platform, Ginny hugged Harry, and he hugged her back, his arms tight around her waist.

‘Thanks for not being too angry with me about Draco.’

Harry shrugged.

‘You don’t understand how much it means to me that we can still be friends. Owl me?’

‘Sure.’

‘And try to convince Ron there’s no reason for him to be angry with me either.’

‘All right.’

‘Bye, Harry.’

Ginny picked up her trunk and went to the train. She waved good-bye to Harry before boarding. She found an empty compartment and sat down. When she looked out the window, Harry had already left the platform. With a great sigh, Ginny settled down in her seat and closed her eyes.

‘Can I sit in here?’

Ginny opened her eyes. ‘Colin! Hi! Of course.’

Colin Creevey closed the compartment door behind him and sat down. ‘Luna’s out there wandering around looking for compartments too. _Where the heck have you been_?’

Ginny smiled. ‘Oh, Colin, that’s a very long story.’

XXXXXXX

  
To Be Continued ...

XXXXXXX

 


	15. Final Goodbyes

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Fifteen: Final Goodbyes**

XXXXXXX

            Draco stood in a large room, his hands magically bound behind his back, his wand broken, and his mind full of dread.  The room was circular with doors behind and in front of him.  The door in front of him was blocked by a desk where the warden sat, shuffling through a stack of papers, clicking his tongue and signing each of the transfer papers.  Next to him, a quill moved on its own every time he needed to make a note of something.  

            ‘Malfoy, Draco,’ the warden said, looking up; his dull eyes bored into Draco’s and he sneered.  ‘A little Death Eater.  Brilliant.  What’s your sentence?’  He looked down at a piece of parchment.  A frown crossed his face, making him look more sullen than before.  ‘Only three months, well then.  You’ll be in Ward D, Row Eighteen.  You eat, drink, and piss in your cell.  You are allowed one book to read at a time, but it must be approved _by me_ and are generally Muggle books as to not give the prisoners any bright ideas.  There are no owls, no visitors, and no pudding.  If anything is wrong, you can call for a guard, but only if there is impending death or you have witnessed an escape.  If you to try and escape, you will set off several alarms as well as endure traps and curses that have been set up outside your door and window.  Do not complain about the leak in the ceiling or on the walls because no one here cares.  If you mark on the walls how many days you are in prison, those days will be multiplied tenfold; we do not allow vandalism anywhere in this prison.  Are there any questions?’

            ‘No.’            

            ‘A guard will come around once a night to use a cleaning charm on you and your cell.  You get one bed, one chamber pot, one blanket, and one pillow.  You have two sets of prison robes, one to wear and one to be laundered.  I think that covers all the rules.  If you break them, I break you, understand?’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘Take him,’ the warden said to a guard, a large, black wizard with very large hands.  The guard placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, digging his fingertips into his skin; Draco hissed at the pain, but kept his composure as he was escorted to his cell.  

            It was small, but not as small as Draco had expected.  The ceiling was at least eight feet tall and the walls all seemed to be about that width as well.  It was a perfect cube.  The bed frame was made of metal and the mattress was a bit lumpy and the pillow thin, but the blanket was surprisingly thick.  It made sense, though, because the cell was freezing cold and Draco sat on the bed and put the blanket around his shoulders.  There was a tiny table next to his bed with a tray of food on it – one baked potato, a slice of meat, and a dinner roll.  No fork or knife, no butter or gravy, no water or pumpkin juice.  Draco’s eyes looked at the food for several minutes, but he wasn’t hungry.

            In the corner, a jagged stream of water dripped from the ceiling over the stone wall.  It made noise as it hit the small puddle on the floor.  The window on the wall opposite the bed was high up, but if Draco stood, his head was just high enough to look out.  There wasn’t a pane, only bars, and the smell of ice-cold salt water wafted through and hit Draco in the face.  The air was so cold that it made the inside of his nose hurt and his eyes burn.  He went back to his bed and lay down.

            Sleep came to him quickly, but it was fitful.  Breakfast the next morning was as bland as dinner had been the night before.  Draco slowly began to see a pattern with the food that magically appeared right on time for each of the three meals.  A young witch came around every evening, pointed her wand at him, said _Scourgify_ to clean him up, and Summoned his dirty robes to get them properly cleaned and inspected.  The guard was not allowed to speak to Draco, or any of the other prisoners, unless asked a question about a book request, but she had told him that it wasn’t unusual for prisoners to try and hide rocks to use as weapons; sometimes they’d hide them in their clothes.              

            Draco slowly became accustomed to the daily routine of Azkaban.  He never heard any of the other prisoners, which made him think there must be powerful silencing charms around the cells.  He also noticed that if he stood in front of the window or the cell door for more than a few minutes, he’d grow so drowsy that he’d collapse into sleep for several hours.  It was a good bit of magic to keep prisoners from escaping and whenever Draco couldn’t fall asleep he’d push his bed against the wall and underneath the window and lay there until sleep conquered him.

            He spent most of his days reading books, although the more he read, the angrier he got.  He did not want to be subjected to Muggle literature and any time he found himself laughing out loud, he’d throw the book against the wall as hard as he could and not allow himself to read for the rest of the day, as punishment for finding anything Muggle enjoyable.

            On those days, he would think about Ginny.  It was hard not to.  He broke her heart; he knew he had.  It was for her own good, though.  He didn’t want her wasting her time with him.  Her family would never approve and if she decided to remain his girlfriend, his lover, then she would slowly grow resentful of him since she would have to make a choice – him or her family.  He simply made the choice for her.  He hoped happiness for her, as long as he never had to hear about it and as long as ‘happiness’ didn’t come in the form of Harry Potter.

            By the time he had completed the second month of his sentence, Draco was slowly growing mad from boredom.  He was still sound in mind, but he began to do things he had never done before ... like push-ups and sit-ups and making up rhymes and songs in his head, much like ‘Weasley is Our King’ from his fifth year.

_I was brilliant back then, wasn’t I?_

            When it came time to leave Azkaban for good, Draco felt stronger physically, but weaker emotionally.  He was escorted onto a bus much like the Knight Bus.  It took him straight to Malfoy Mansion and dropped him off, zooming away out of sight a split second later.  Without a wand, Malfoy had to bang his fist against the front door until Bitty opened it.  She ran him a steaming hot bath and put fresh logs in the sitting room fireplace.  After Draco took the first real bath in months, he put on pyjamas and a dressing robe, realising how much he missed the comforts of home.  The pyjamas felt good against his skin, nothing like the scratchy material of the prison robes.

            ‘What can Bitty bring Young Sir to eat?’

            ‘I don’t care,’ said Draco.  ‘Whatever’s hot.  It’s bloody cold in here.’

            ‘Yes, sir.  If it pleases, sir, you have lots of posts, sir,’ Bitty said, clutching the sides of her doily-dress.  ‘Shall I—’

            ‘Posts from whom?’

            ‘Bitty does not know, sir.  Bitty doesn’t read Young Sir’s posts; she puts it in a safe place for sir to read when sir returns and now Young Sir is back!’            

            ‘Sure, bring it to me while I wait for dinner.’

            ‘Yes, sir.’  Bitty curtsied awkwardly and Disapparated with a _crack_.  

            Draco sat in his chair, looking at the orange flames as they crackled over the thick logs.  The heat emanating from it warmed Draco’s face and he breathed in deeply, the scent of home filling his nostrils.  Three months in prison ... three whole months ...  He was not used to this much _space_.  Even though the only sound came from the fire, Draco was not even used to this much noise.  He should have felt comfortable and at peace, finally being out of Azkaban and back in his childhood home.  It wasn’t like that, though.  He felt out-of-place and ill at ease.  Maybe it was the memories of this house.  Maybe it was England in general.  Draco wasn’t sure, but he would be glad when he could get back to Sicily.

            Before he and Ginny had left Sicily on the Duchess Express, he spoke with the owner of the restaurant, explaining that he knew the monthly payment for the flat was due the next week and not to worry – a direct payment would be sent to him whether they were there or not.  That was one of the nice things about being a wizard.  He could stack up nice envelopes of money and charm them to Vanish and Reappear at exact times in exact places.  Hopefully his charms worked and his flat was still theirs.  _His_.  Hopefully the flat was still _his_.

            ‘Here is your post, sir,’ said Bitty, reappearing in the sitting room.  She snapped her long, bony fingers and a small stack of envelopes appeared on the table next to Draco.  A moment later a second house-elf, Finny, Apparated into the room with a tray of food and drink in his little hands.  Finny was the elf who always worked in the kitchen, preparing meals for the Malfoy family while Bitty was Draco’s personal house-elf.  Draco had the feeling that one day there would be mini Finny-Bitty hybrids learning how to cook and clean.  

            ‘Just put the tray there,’ said Draco, pointing to a table in the centre of the room.  ‘That’s all.’

            Bitty curtseyed again and Finny bowed; they both Disapparated.

            Draco looked at the food.  It looked wonderful; it smelled wonderful; but for some reason, he didn’t feel like eating.  Warm food was a luxury he was not accustomed to anymore.  He turned his attention to his envelopes instead.  There were four of them, his name written in red ink on the front in loopy cursive.  

            ‘Oh, fuck me,’ said Draco, realising who the handwriting belonged to.  He took the envelopes and went to the fireplace.  Swallowing hard, he looked into the flames, then at his hand, then back at the fire.  Dare he throw all the letters away?  For one thing, Ginny would know that it would take him several months before could read them, so whatever she had to say couldn’t be time-pressing.  Another thing, didn’t he want to wash his hands clean of her?  What good could reading the letters possibly bring? 

            ‘For the love of Merlin and Salazar,’ Draco groaned, looking at the envelopes once more.  ‘Burn them or not burn them?’  He took in a deep breath, turned his gaze to the fire, and decided.

XXXXXXX

_10 September 1998_

_Draco_ –

            _I know the Azkaban rules forbid prisoners from receiving post, but I didn’t want to go the school term thinking that we weren’t friends any longer.  The train ride back to Hogwarts was long and boring.  I feel as though I don’t have anything to talk with my friends about any longer.  Once they’d forced most of the story of my ‘kidnapping’ out of me, the ride was filled with these awkward silences.  I didn’t tell them about us, though.  I thought we could use the break from the world knowing our private business.  Luna did provide some good entertainment with her comments about her father’s magazine and trying to find the long lost Human-Chimera Halfling._

_What do you do all day?  Do you ever get out?  Do you have anyone to talk to?  I hope so.  I don’t want to think you’re miserable there._

_The funerals happened.  It was an absolute mess.  Everyone was crying.  It was as bad as Dumbledore’s funeral, I think.  So many witches and wizards were burying family members.  We only had Charlie and Fred’s bodies to bury, though.  No one has found Percy’s yet.  I wish they would so we could stop worrying about him being hurt or his body lying out there somewhere being eaten by Flesh-Eating Slugs.  I miss them.  Since the funeral I’ve been able to keep the crying down to a minimal, but I miss you and I wish you could hold me while I cry.  Even though you’re an arrogant berk, you make me feel better._

_I have to make a confession.  I haven’t stopped thinking about you and I still think of us as together.  I know that’s not what you want and I know you’re trying to protect me somehow, but I still think it’s rubbish.  I’d rather not get upset or angry.  Staying angry at you for the rest of my life doesn’t seem beneficial to anyone.  I hope you’ll write me back as soon as you get out of Azkaban.  Your prison sentence was printed in the_ Daily Prophet _so I suppose you’ll be reading this letter 2nd December if you haven’t thrown it into the fire or something horrible like that._

_Love, Gin_

XXXXXXX

_20 October 1998_

_Draco –_

_McGonagall’s gone on some mad rampage about rules and regulations.  The first Hogsmeade visit was last weekend and several students let motel rooms for the day so the entire school has been banned from Hogsmeade until next term, which is awful because now I don’t know how I am going to buy Christmas presents for anyone._

_There’s a new Transfiguration professor since McGonagall has taken over being Headmistress full-time.  Slughorn’s back, the fat toad, and somehow, although I’m not really sure how McGonagall talked him into it, Lupin is back teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.  I’m sure you’d hate his class if you were here.  We’re learning loads of new Defence that was illegal to Hogwarts until now.  Scrimgeour is a brilliant Minister, he’s allowing Lupin to teach from whatever book he wants to.  It’s amazing.  It’s more than I learned in the DA, although I don’t suppose you know much about that._

_Anyway.  Halloween’s coming up, but I think I am going to skip the feast and stay alone in my dormitory.  I was so used to being in that flat in_ _Sicily_ _with no one but you and now I’m sharing a room with three other girls and no matter where I go, I’m surrounded by people.  It’s maddening._

_Love, Gin_

XXXXXXX

_20 November 1998_

_Draco –_

_Gryffindor beat Slytherin in the first Quidditch match of the season.  I’m back to playing Seeker.  There’s only two more weeks until you’re out of Azkaban.  I’m so excited for you.  I hope you’ll write me as soon as you’re out and have read these.  Let me know you’re doing all right and how horrible prison was.  I’ve been reading up on the new laws now that the Dementors are no longer a part of Azkaban.  You have a lifelong ban against buying a new wand and for six months you have to check in with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement three times a week.  I’m not sure what the point of that is or what they’ll make you do, or even how you’ll get there if you don’t have a wand.  I suppose you could Floo._

_I know you know all this already, but if you have to go to the British Ministry of Magic three times a week, then perhaps you’ll be in_ _England_ _for a while.  McGonagall has relented and is allowing us to go to Hogsmeade before Christmas holiday under heavy supervision.  I think I’m going to go with Colin and Luna.  They seem to be the only ones at school who still act normally around me.  The others treat me as some sort of freak.  I owled Katie Bell and asked her how she adjusted to life back at Hogwarts after being gone for so long.  She told me that it was hard to get everyone to treat her like she was _ _Normal_ _Katie.  Everyone wanted to treat her like Once Cursed Katie and What Was That Like?  The same for me.  I don’t know how, but the entire school’s found out that you and I lived together in a foreign country._

_Merlin, everyone wants to know our story.  I don’t think it’s theirs to know.  It is a great story, even though we’re not together now and even though it probably won’t be told._

_I miss you._

_Love, Gin_

XXXXXXX

_2 December 1998_

_Draco –_

_You’re home today.  I expect you’ll be at_ _Malfoy_ _Mansion_ _for a while.  I hope you’re all right and that Azkaban wasn’t too bad.  Please write me and let me know how you are._

_Love, Gin_

XXXXXXX

            Draco woke up on Christmas Day feeling groggy.  The bottle of Dragonisky Plum Wine lay on the floor next to his bed, empty, with a few droplets having spilt on the floor.  If he had a wand, Draco would have Vanished the spot.  He sighed and buried himself deeper in the quilts covering his bed.  Well, it wasn’t _his_ bed in the sense that this was _his_ bedroom.  He didn’t want to be in his own bedroom, where his parents died.  Instead, he’d been staying in one of the guestrooms, the largest and most lavish one.  When he rode the Duchess Express from Sicily with Ginny he decided then to never go in that room again.

            At Azkaban he could move his bed near the window and allow the charms to put him to sleep.  He never thought he would sleep for hours upon hours, straight through the day, missing meals, but that’s what he spent most of his time doing.  It sure beat thinking of Ginny continually or trying to make his way through those horrible Muggle books.  Now that he was back at his house, sleep eluded him.  He’d used alcohol to put him to sleep a handful of times, but it was not something he could do every night; he did not like the taste of most liquor well enough to get drunk as often as he would have liked to.  

            Instead he slunk down as far as he could under the covers without suffocating himself and pretended he was asleep.  He heard Bitty come in and set a tray down on the bedside table before Disapparating.  It smelled of coffee, chocolate, and cinnamon.  Draco had no idea what it was, but he didn’t want to turn over and find out.  He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, but when he finally reached for the tray, he had to call Bitty to use magic to heat it up again.

XXXXXXX

            The New Year came and went without incident.  Draco Floo’ed to the Ministry three times a week.  He was asked loads of questions about magic, his daily activities, and his plans for the future.  It seemed silly, but the Ministry wanted to keep tabs on all the potential Dark wizards who might want to take Voldemort’s place.  Once this ridiculous three times a week thing was over, Draco still had to check in with the Ministry once a month for an additional six months.  After that, it lessened to every other month for a year.  Then, every three months for a year and so on.  After that, he would have to check in once a year.  He would never be completely free.

            It was the third day of the new year and Draco was bored, as usual.  He’d gone through and organised everything in the ballroom.  The library had been completely redone, the books now arranged by author with each shelf dedicated to a specific subject.  He’d gone flying, shopped in Diagon Alley, and bought, Salazar help him, a _cookbook_.  Ginny had sometimes spent hours in the kitchen concocting things to eat.  If he, too, could do something like that then it would help to pass the time.  Unfortunately, Draco had to lower himself into going to a Muggle bookstore in London and finding the cooking section.  When he came home he ordered Bitty to disinfect the book while he took a steaming hot shower.  But now there was simply nothing to do.  Bitty and Finny were out with a list of food to buy from the local wizard market and the rain was keeping Draco indoors.

            When the knocker on the front door sounded, Draco jumped in surprise.  Grumbling, he went to the door, figuring it was probably a Ministry official come to tell him he had made some violation of some sort.  Those Ministry workers – what sods.  

            ‘Er, hi.’            

            Draco’s initial surprise at the knock was nothing compared to his new shock at seeing Ginny on the other side of the door.  It had been close to five months since the last time he saw her.  She looked very much the same.  She’d cropped her hair so that it fell neatly to her shoulders and she had a bit of fringe that fell across her forehead.  It looked as though she had make-up on her face, which was very unusual for her.  She had on a pair of jeans and his favourite shirt he bought her back in Sicily.  Around her neck, the Hogwarts cloak was fastened, but it didn’t seem to be protecting her much from the wind and rain; she looked frozen.

            ‘Hi.’  Draco stepped away from the doorway to allow Ginny to walk in.  ‘What are you doing here?’

            ‘Tomorrow the train leaves to take me back to Hogwarts.’

            ‘Does your family know you’re here?’

            ‘Harry does,’ Ginny replied, ‘but he won’t tell anyone.  How are you?’

            ‘Fine.’

            ‘You don’t look fine.’

            Draco closed the front door and walked out of the foyer.  Ginny followed him and he went into the sitting room. 

            ‘Well, I _am_ fine,’ he said.  

            ‘I owled you.  I asked you to write me.’

            

            ‘I didn’t get any owls,’ Draco lied.  ‘We weren’t allowed mail in Azkaban.’

            ‘I didn’t send them to Azkaban,’ Ginny said.  ‘I sent them here.  Four of them.  You must have got them.’

            Draco shook his head.  ‘I didn’t read them.  I burned them.’

            Ginny looked hurt and shocked for a moment, but then her eyes narrowed and she shook her head.  ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said.

            ‘Believe what you like.’

            ‘This is going to be like with that ruddy detention, isn’t it?  Where you deny it for several months before I finally pull the truth out of you.  You didn’t burn them.’

            Draco shrugged.  He went to the bar, poured himself a drink, and sat down on the leather sofa.  He looked up at her and said, ‘You’re welcome to whatever you want,’ as he motioned towards the row of liquor bottles on the other side of the room.

            ‘No, thanks.  I had one too many Chimera Butter Bombs once ... haven’t had a taste for liquor since.  How was Azkaban?’

            ‘How do you think it was?’

            ‘I don’t know.  Now that the Dementors are gone – I was just wondering how it was.  They didn’t ... y’know ... torture you or anything?’

            Draco snorted.  ‘Hardly.  I barely saw anyone the entire time I was there.  I was allowed one book at a time – one _Muggle_ book – and that was the only thing I could do to entertain myself.’

            ‘I’m so sorry.  At least it was only three months and the Dementors weren’t there.  Have you adjusted to normal life again?’

            ‘ _Normal life_?  Gin, you have no concept of what I have to go through.  I don’t have a wand and the Ministry has set detectors all around my fucking house that lets them know what kind of magic goes on.  If it’s not something that a house-elf can do, then I will get sent back to Azkaban for a month.  I can’t buy a wand for the rest of my life.  Every week I Floo into London to be interrogated by a bunch of sodding idiots.  I will always be under surveillance for the rest of my life.  And if I escape and they ever find me ...’  Draco shook his head.  ‘You have no idea.  The end of the world didn’t turn your world upside down like it did mine.’

            ‘My brothers—’

            ‘You have the rest of your family.  So what if you lost a couple of them?  There were more than enough Weasels in the first place.  You still have your parents and _Potter_ and Hogwarts.  If I even wanted to get a job, I couldn’t.  I have nothing to do and the boredom here at home is almost as bad as the boredom at Azkaban.  I’m about to go mad.’

            Ginny bit her lip.  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. 

            ‘Why are you here?’

            ‘Because I miss you,’ admitted Ginny, looking rather miserable.

            ‘Don’t do this, Gin.  I told you we should both move on.’

            ‘I know.  I want to, I really do.  But I miss you.  The last time we were together didn’t feel like goodbye.  I think I need a real goodbye before I can let you go.’

            Draco wet his lips and set his glass on the table next to the sofa.  He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes.  ‘Gin—’

            She crossed over to him and knelt down, taking his hands.  ‘I’m serious.  I need to say goodbye to you, to give you up.  If I don’t have that then ... I’ll always wonder.  One last goodbye?’

            Her scent was like the most potent perfume and it filled him and made him realise how much he missed her.  With a nod he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to him, kissing her mouth as she settled on his lap.  Her hands were everywhere, tearing at his clothes with a frenzied need he had never experienced with her before.  

            His hands went under her shirt; he’d almost forgotten how soft she was, how much like a girl she was.  Once all of her flesh was exposed to him, he pushed her down on the sofa underneath him, kissed her neck, and entered her as she whispered, ‘I still love you.’

XXXXXXX

            

            A few hours later, Ginny was dressed and standing in the foyer, wand in hand, ready to walk into the front garden and Disapparate.

            ‘Can we write?’ she asked.

            Draco shook his head.  ‘Not for a while.’

            ‘I don’t understand—’

            He placed his hands on her shoulders.  ‘Your family is important to you.  I don’t think either of us are ready or ... _mature_ enough to deal with their reactions if we kept up with our relationship.  In five, six, seven years, everything might be different.’

            Ginny nodded.  ‘It’s true, I know it is.  I’m seventeen and legally an adult, but I don’t think I’m prepared to have a full wedge driven between me and my family.  I just – one day it could be different.’

            Draco nodded too.  ‘Aye.’

            ‘You’ll go back to Sicily?’

            ‘When I don’t have to go to the Ministry three times a week, yes.’

            ‘All right.  Well ... goodbye, Draco.’

            The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them.  He pulled her to him and hugged her, breathing in, committing her scent to memory so he’d never forget.  Ginny pulled back after a couple of minutes and without looking at him stepped through the open door into the cold of January and Disapparated with a _crack_.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued ...

XXXXXXX

 


	16. Epilogue: And What Happened Next

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXX

**Epilogue: And What Happened Next**

XXXXXXX

            ‘Ginny, why can’t you find a nice boy?  What was wrong with Randall?’

            Ginny knew there was a confused expression on her face when she looked over at her mother.  ‘Who’s Randall?’

            ‘That boy you were seeing – don’t tell me you’ve gone and dumped him already!’

            ‘What boy?  I don’t remember a Rand – oh.  Right.  Him.  Yes, that was two months ago and he’s gone.  I’m seeing Clive now.’

            ‘Clive?  Ginevra, I wish you would settle down!  Your brothers are all married and Harry’s engaged!  You’re the last one left!’

            ‘Yes, but should I remind you that George and Elspeth dated for three years before they got married?  And Ron and Hermione were together for almost eight years before they decided to do it.  So I wouldn’t expect any sudden marriages or elopements from me.’

            ‘You’re twenty-five years old—’

            ‘There’s still _plenty_ of time before I become an old maid!’ Ginny cried.  ‘Now, do you want me to peel the potatoes or not?’

            Mrs Weasley frowned, wiped her hands on her apron, and passed Ginny a bowl of red potatoes.  She eyed her daughter and Ginny sat up straighter in the chair, taking the bowl and setting it down on the kitchen table.  Using her wand, she began to peel the potatoes one by one.

            ‘Is everyone coming tonight?’ Ginny asked.

            ‘Bill and Fleur aren’t,’ said Mrs Weasley through tight lips.  Three years ago, Bill agreed to move to France with Fleur to raise their twin sons and had only come back to England twice.  It was a very sore spot with Mrs Weasley who felt that Fleur’s only redeeming quality was that she married Bill.

            ‘Well, I figured that,’ said Ginny icily.  ‘I meant the others.’

            ‘Yes, everyone else is coming.’

            Ginny smiled to herself.  The family normally got together every Wednesday for dinner, but for the past two weeks Ginny had to work so she was looking forward to seeing her brothers.  And if everyone was coming ... that was good news.

            Two years after the end of the war, Percy’s hand on the old Weasley clock suddenly moved from Lost to Hospital.  It took several months of therapy, but he was able to relearn how to walk, talk, and use magic.  He and a handful of other witches and wizards had been taken as hostages, only when their capturers were killed in the Final Battle, no one knew where to find them.  It was a chance happening that a Muggle stumbled upon the eleven of them in a cave on the English coast.  Percy ended up marrying his nurse at St Mungo’s, a plain but clever witch who was Head Girl a year above Percy.  She was a Ravenclaw, but despite her intelligence, rather thought she belonged in Gryffindor.  Percy felt just the opposite; he fancied himself more suited for Ravenclaw.  Mrs Weasley asked them when they were going to give her more grandchildren the way she asked Ginny when she was going to get married – all the time.

            Ron and Hermione had, of course, married as well, although it took them until last year to do it.  It was a Muggle wedding in a Muggle church.  Ginny was a bridesmaid, the maid of honour, and her dress was a very dark green, which looked much better than the awful gold Fleur had picked out.  Surprisingly, Tonks was the other bridesmaid; no one had realised how close the two girls were.

            _‘I owled her after the debacle with Ron and Lavender ended and before Ron got the nerve to make a move.  She fancied Remus for so long before they got together; I thought she could give me valuable advice.’_

            Ginny later found out that valuable advice changed into friendship.  Tonks wanted to give herself bright, cherry red hair to match the green dress since the wedding was taking place at the beginning of December, close to Christmas.  Hermione refused and Ginny rather thought that it took a bit of persuading from Lupin, but Tonks walked down the aisle with long brown hair pulled up in a twisty bun.  It was becoming.

            Ron and Hermione would be married one year next month while George and Elspeth were working on their third anniversary.  They had a one-year-old daughter named Ella with the curliest ginger coloured hair Ginny ever saw.  It was nice to know George’s baby so well since she hardly ever saw Bill’s.

            ‘Oh, there’re Ron and Hermione,’ said Mrs Weasley looking out of the kitchen window.  

             A few moments later, Ron and Hermione walked in through the back door, both wearing Muggle clothes.  Ron nicked a dinner roll from a basket on the counter; Mrs Weasley slapped his hand with her spatula, but he managed to stuff the entire roll in his mouth anyway.

            ‘You’re going to ruin your appetite!’

            ‘Ron could never ruin his appetite.  He’s going to eat us out of house and home,’ said Hermione.

            ‘What?  You act like you never knew I ate a lot.’

            ‘You eat _loads_ , Ron, _loads_.’

            Ron smiled and shrugged.  ‘Where’s Dad?’

            ‘Out in the shed with Harry.  They’ll be back in a bit,’ said Ginny.

            ‘Ah, I’ll go see what they’re doing.’  Ron stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out into the back garden.  

            Hermione sat down at the table, took out her wand, and tapped the bowl of potatoes.  All at once they peeled.  With another tap of her wand, she Vanished the skins.  

            ‘Is Harry’s girlfriend coming?’ Hermione asked.  ‘Whatever her name is?’

            ‘Laura,’ said Ginny with a bored yawn.  ‘You _know_ her name, Hermione.’

            ‘I know,’ she said rather glumly.  ‘She’s not good enough for Harry.’

            ‘Would anyone be good enough for Harry?’

            ‘No.  If I don’t worry about him, who will?’

            ‘I will,’ said Ginny.  ‘And Mum will as well.’

            ‘You shouldn’t worry so much, dear,’ said Mrs Weasley, patting Hermione’s shoulder.  ‘Laura’s all right.  She treats Harry well and he loves her.’

            ‘I know ... I suppose no one’s good enough for Harry.’  Hermione shot a quick look at Ginny.  ‘Except for, well ...’

            ‘It’s all right,’ said Ginny.  ‘I don’t want to date Harry anyway.’

            Hermione gave her what looked like a sympathetic smile.  It didn’t really matter; she and Harry were over.  The summer after her seventh year they tried to date again.  Things went all right for the first two months, but they mutually broke up because they knew it wasn’t going to work.  In the weeks they were together at Hogwarts, Ginny never took any crap from Harry, but she was a different person now.  The things she tolerated back then weren’t tolerable now.  

            Once, Hermione said Harry had a ‘saving-people thing.’  It wasn’t just their lives that Harry wanted to save; he wanted to protect everyone in general and Ginny didn’t want protection.  It was in Harry’s nature and that might have been fine at Hogwarts to an extent, but that summer, Ginny wanted complete freedom.  She stayed single for over a year before she started dating bloke after bloke after bloke.  Less than a handful of them ever shared her bed, but she let them take her out on dates and snog once they reached her flat, only to repeat the same process over and over with different men every few months.  None of them kept her interest and things always fell apart.

            

            Harry, on the other hand, dated two girls after Ginny.  The first one he dated for almost a year before she broke things off.  After that, he dated Laura Madley, some girl from Hogwarts a few years behind him.  He happened to meet her on a visit to St Mungo’s after he was hit with a Bludger during a game.  She was a Healer-in-Training at the time, introduced to him by Percy’s wife.  The rest was history ... the rest was a rather beautiful, but simple, ring that wrapped around her ring finger.

            ‘Are George and Elspeth bringing Ella?’ Ginny asked.

            ‘I would assume so,’ said Mrs Weasley.  ‘There’ – she cast a warming charm on the food – ‘everything’s ready.’

            A cough and a bang came from the living room.  Mrs Weasley wiped her hands on her apron again, muttering, ‘What in the name of Merlin?’ as she scurried into the other room.  

            Ginny heard quick little steps a few seconds later and curly-haired Ella ran into the room, her chubby legs wobbling underneath her.  Ginny picked her up and sat her in her lap.

            ‘George, your father is in his shed with Harry and Ron – go tell them dinner is ready.  I see Percy in the garden.  He must have just Apparated here.’

            Ginny and Hermione set out the forks, knives, and napkins as everyone came inside and sat down around the table.  

            ‘Molly, you _have_ to see this,’ Mr Weasley exclaimed, holding something in his hand that looked like an ordinary frying pan.  ‘It’s called Telfan—’

            ‘Teflon,’ Harry muttered, looking over at Hermione.

            ‘—and _nothing_ sticks to it!  You don’t have to worry about cleaning it; everything comes off!’

            Mrs Weasley placed her hands on her hips.  ‘Why do I need Telfan when I have a wand?’

            ‘If you were ever without a wand, Molly dear.  Isn’t it amazing?  These things Muggles come up with!’

            Hermione smiled and looked as though she was trying to stifle a laugh.  Ron reached for another dinner roll.

            Ella sat in a highchair next to Elspeth who tore up a dinner roll for her to pick up with her tiny hands along with cut-up pieces of potato and carrot; Ella looked thoroughly excited about all of it.  The rest of them began the meal, discussing Harry’s new Quidditch schedule.

            ‘Well, my contract is to play through the next Quidditch World Cup, which is next summer,’ he said.  ‘They’re already trying to renew it until the World Cup after that, but I don’t know if I want to continue playing that long.’

            ‘Ohh?’ said Ginny.  ‘Why not?’

            ‘That’s another _four_ years ... that’s a long commitment, especially if I’m going to get married next August.’

            ‘Is that the date you picked?’ Mrs Weasley exclaimed.  ‘Oh, Harry, how exciting!  We’ll help plan or do whatever you need us to do!  Another wedding—’

            ‘Molly, dear, why don’t you calm down?  There’s plenty of time to get excited,’ said Mr Weasley.

            ‘Well, it might be the last wedding I get to help with!’

            ‘You still have another unmarried kid, you know,’ Ginny ground out.

            ‘I didn’t think you were going to get married,’ said Mrs Weasley, cutting up her pot roast.

            ‘I never said – I haven’t found the guy I want to marry is all.’  Ginny looked down at her plate and pushed the potatoes away from the roast.

            ‘Perhaps you’ve found him, you just don’t know it yet,’ suggested Hermione.

            ‘Oh, I know it all right,’ Ginny murmured.  No one seemed to hear her, for none of them commented, but when Ginny looked up, her father was eying her thoughtfully.

            ‘Shut _up_ , Ron,’ Hermione said, pulling Ginny out of her stupor.

            ‘You said you were going to tell them _tonight_.  Do it or I will.’

            ‘Fine.’  Hermione took in a deep breath and said in a very monotonous voice, ‘Ron and I are going to have a baby.’

            The squeal that erupted from Mrs Weasley hurt Ginny’s ears.  After she calmed down, she looked over at Percy.  

            ‘I always thought you would have children before Ron and Hermione.’

            ‘We’re not going to have kids,’ said Percy.  ‘Not now, not ever.  Oh, don’t look so horrified.  My reason is the same as Lupin and Tonks’ every time you ask them when they’re going to start reproducing.  We don’t want kids.’

            ‘Don’t say it as though having kids is tragic,’ said Elspeth.

            Percy opened his mouth to respond, but Ella took that precise moment to fling a handful of carrots at his head.             Everyone laughed except for Percy who peeled the mashed-up carrots off his face and glasses.

            ‘Ron thinks we’re going to have twins,’ said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

            ‘It could happen,’ said Ginny.  

            ‘Twins run in the family,’ said Mrs Weasley.

            ‘Yeah,’ George added, ‘Bill and Fleur have twins.’

            ‘You don’t,’ countered Hermione.

            ‘We could very easily,’ said Elspeth.  ‘Molly, when was the last time someone in the Weasley family _didn’t_ have twins?’

            ‘1782.’

            ‘And you happen to know that year off the top of your head?’ said Hermione.  ‘Never mind.  It doesn’t matter if they run in _your_ family.  It only matters if twins run on the female’s side.  See, genetically—’

            ‘No one wants to hear any of your ruddy Muggle biofolgy stuff,’ said Ron.  ‘In the wizarding world, it doesn’t matter whose side it runs on.  It’s _magic_.’

            ‘So you have _magic_ sperm that’s going to _magically_ divide my egg in two?’

            Ron shrugged and an abrupt, horrified look of comprehension crossed Hermione’s face.  She grasped at her stomach with one hand, muttering, ‘Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,’ and excused herself, rushing out of the room, with her other hand over her mouth.

            Ginny almost laughed.  In her twenty-five years of life, she never saw anyone get as annoyed with Ron as Hermione did.  It shouldn’t have shocked her that the two of them could find something to bicker about at a time like this.  How they stayed together for the better part of a decade, Ginny had no idea.

            

            During the hurried chatter directly afterwards, where Mrs Weasley admonished Ron for not going after Hermione, Mr Weasley leaned towards his daughter and said quietly, almost under his breath, ‘Rumour has it around the Minister’s office that Malfoy’s back in Wiltshire.’

            Ginny suddenly lost her appetite.

XXXXXXX

            Luna glided into the living room of the flat she and Ginny shared.  Ginny watched her walk in, her cucumber earrings swinging wildly.  The blonde girl stopped in front of the settee and put her hands on her hips.

            ‘Ginny, did the Green Fairy whisper in your ear?’

            ‘... _What_?’

            Luna sighed exasperatedly.  ‘One only drinks from the’ – she lowered her voice significantly – ‘ _green bottle_ if the Green Fairy comes.’

            Ginny looked at the bottle in front of her.  ‘Oh, right, this.  I didn’t charm it,’ she said, ‘so it’s the same Absinthe that Muggles drink these days.  You have to add in that extra charm to activate the wormwood.’

            Luna didn’t look convinced.  ‘Was dinner that bad?  Harry didn’t try to get back together, did he?  You know, I have very fond memories of our date.  He’s much nicer than Ronald is.  I think he still mocks me.’

            ‘Harry or Ron _ald_?’

            ‘Ronald,’ answered Luna.  

            ‘No, dinner was not bad.  It was rather enjoyable, really.  My dad told me Draco’s back in England.’

            ‘Oh.’

            ‘I don’t know if I should go see him.’

            

            ‘You can come with me, if you want.  I’m going with Neville to find a Checkered Ernge Tulip, the flesh-eating kind.’

            Ginny knew better than to ask what that was.  ‘No thanks.’

            ‘If you still love him, then maybe—’

            From the other side of the room came a loud _‘Oomph!_ ’ and a cloud of soot filled the room.  Ginny watched as a blackened Hermione stepped forward, coughing.

            ‘Don’t you ever clean your fireplace?’ she asked.  ‘ _Scourgify_!  That’s better.’

            ‘What do you want?’

            ‘Well, I—’  Hermione stopped, her gaze dropping down to the coffee table in front of the settee and the green bottle sitting upon it.  ‘You didn’t charm that, did you?’

            ‘No, and it would do you some good to mind your own business for once,’ Ginny said rather acidly.

            ‘Ron heard what your father said to you.’

            Ginny felt her face drain of colour.  

            ‘Don’t worry, I don’t think your mum knows.’

            ‘Come to give me a good lecture, then?’

            ‘No.  I’ve come to make sure you are going to go to him.  If you don’t see how he is, then you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.  He might only be in England for a few days.  This shouldn’t be a missed opportunity.’

            Ginny stared at Hermione in disbelief.  ‘I think your hormones have done wonky things to your brain.’

            ‘My brain and my hormones are fine.’

            ‘Something wonky is going on.’

            Hermione moved towards the settee and sat down next to Ginny.  ‘You know I’m mad about your brother, right?  If we had never got together in seventh year, I would have always wondered what could have been.  And if I found out that he was in town after not seeing him for almost eight years I would do everything in my power _to_ see him.’

            ‘What if he’s married or something?’ Ginny said desperately.  ‘I couldn’t stand the thought of him with someone else.  I’d rather not see him at all.’

            ‘Are you sure that’s true?’

            Ginny shook her head.  ‘No.’

            ‘I think you need to see him.’

            ‘What if he breaks my heart again?’

            ‘Then break his in return.’

XXXXXXX

            It took all her courage to Apparate to Wiltshire.  At first, she almost didn’t in case she splinched herself, but she cleared her head long enough for Apparation.  With deep breaths, Ginny walked up to the front door of the mansion and knocked.  It took almost a minute for someone to answer; it was Bitty the house-elf.

            ‘Mistress Wheezy!’ she cried.  ‘Mistress Wheezy!  Bitty is so glad to see—’

            ‘Is Draco here?’ asked Ginny, cutting Bitty off.

            ‘Oh, yes, yes, Sir is upstairs.’

            ‘Can you get him for me?  Don’t tell him it’s me, but tell him there’s someone in the foyer, all right?’

            Bitty’s face fell.  ‘Bitty is not thinking Sir wants to see anyone.’

            ‘Tell him I won’t go away, that I demand to see him – and don’t punish yourself if Draco tells you to; I forbid it!’ Ginny added quickly as Bitty disappeared, but she knew that if Draco told her to hurt herself, nothing she could say could make it better.

            Ginny took off her cloak and smoothed her shirt.  It was warm in the foyer and her neck and palms were already sweating from nervousness; the heat did not help matters.  Everything was exactly the same as it was the last time she was there, which was a little unnerving.  The memories flooded back; Ginny took in a deep breath and steadied herself.

            ‘Hi!’

            ‘Wha—?’  Ginny turned towards the stairs; a small girl ran down the stairs wearing white flower-print pyjamas.  Her feet were bare and padded against the hardwood floor as she ran up to Ginny.  She had a lampshade over her head, hiding half her face.

            ‘Er, hi,’ said Ginny.  ‘What’s your name?’

            ‘Her name is Paige.’

            Ginny’s eyes shot up from the little girl’s to the top of the stairs.  Draco.  His hair was a bit longer than she’d ever seen it and it was all slicked back, white blonde and smooth, with the exception of a few strands that fell over his forehead.  He looked as though he was ready for bed, wearing black pyjama bottoms and a long sleeve t-shirt.  The lines of his body looked sharp and hard, as if he had spent the past few years working out and exercising.  

            ‘Paige?’ squeaked Ginny, feeling confused and completely unsure of what to say.

            Draco walked down the stairs.  He stopped right behind Paige, turned her around, and pulled her to him.  ‘Why is there a lampshade on your head?’

            ‘Et’s my hat, Papa!’

            Ginny flinched.  Papa?  Draco took the lampshade off the girl’s head.  A gasp escaped Ginny’s throat and her heart all but stopped.  The girl had shoulder-length ginger hair, lighter than Ginny’s but nevertheless red.

            Draco knelt in front of the girl and placed his hands on her shoulders; it reminded Ginny of the last time she and Draco spoke, when they said their goodbyes.  

            ‘It’s nine o’clock.’

            ‘No.’

            ‘No?  It’s _not_ nine o’clock?’

            ‘Et’s fwee o’clock!’

            ‘Three?  Well, what are you doing in pyjamas if it’s three?’

            Paige shrugged dramatically and shook her head.

            ‘We’ve had the discussion about lying before,’ said Draco, the severity laced in his voice, and he dropped his hands.  ‘Go to bed.’

            ‘But—’

            ‘ _Go to bed_.’  Draco stood up.  ‘Bitty!’

            

            The house-elf appeared with a soft _crack_ and curtsied, her eyes focused on the floor.

            ‘Take Paige back to bed.’

            ‘Yes, sir.  Come Miss.’

            Once Bitty and Paige were out of sight up the stairs, Draco motioned for Ginny to follow him.  They went into the sitting room.  

            ‘Sit,’ instructed Draco.

            Ginny sat on the cold leather sofa and folded her cloak on her lap.  She took the drink Draco offered her and put it to her mouth, downing it in one large gulp.  Draco sat on the other side of the sofa, leaning back into the corner, one leg bent up on the leather, the other off the side, his foot flat on the floor.

            ‘I’d ask why you are here, but I don’t think I’m going to get a straight answer.’

            Ginny shook her head.  ‘I don’t think I know.’

            Draco nodded and took a sip of his drink.  ‘You look good.’

            ‘Thank—’

            ‘You look amazing.’  His eyes flickered towards hers as he said it.  Ginny’s pulse quickened.  ‘I’m going to need another drink.’  He downed the rest of the liquor and got up.  ‘Do you want another?’

            ‘I’ve already had several when I was at my flat.  So ... that was your daughter?’

            Draco poured another drink and went back to the sofa before answering.  ‘Yes,’ he said simply.

            ‘Oh, my God,’ said Ginny, wincing.  ‘Just ... oh, my God.  Can’t imagine anyone ever calling you Dad.’

            ‘She doesn’t call me Dad.  She calls me Papa.  Her mum was half-French, half-Italian, and called her father Papa.’

            ‘Are you, y’know, married?’

            Draco rubbed his eyes.  ‘You don’t just come to my house and start asking me questions about the past seven years.  About things that are none of your business.’

            ‘Ask me whatever you want,’ said Ginny.  ‘I’ll tell you.  I heard you were back in town – well, obviously I did – and I wanted to see you.  It’s been a really long time.  I figured we could catch up.  We did love each other once, didn’t we?’

            ‘Aye.’

            Ginny shrugged helplessly.  ‘I wanted to see how you were.  It’s been _years_ and I haven’t the faintest idea how you’ve been.’

            Draco sighed.  ‘Are you married?’

            Ginny laughed.  ‘No, no, I’m not.  Though, my mother’s about to the point of driving me to the loony bin with all her marriage talk.’

            ‘What about ...’

            Ginny had a feeling Draco wanted to know about Harry.  Not wanting him to think Harry was first in her thoughts, she opted to tell him about the rest of her family instead.  ‘Bill and Fleur are in France with their twins.  George married a Muggle and they have a daughter.  Percy – ohh, yes, Percy was found, didn’t that make international news?  Well, Percy and ten others were found, victims of Death Eaters.  He’s married.  Ron and Hermione got married last year and now they’re expecting a baby.  Harry’s engaged to a girl from Hogwarts who was a couple years behind me.  I’m the only one technically single.’

            ‘Thank you for the family history.’

            ‘Right,’ said Ginny, feeling foolish.

            ‘Do you have a job?’

            ‘Yes.  I work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.’

            ‘As what?’ asked Draco with a look of confusion on his face.  ‘You couldn’t possibly be an Auror.’

            ‘Er, no.  Not with ...’  Ginny motioned towards her stomach.  ‘I rarely feel it hurt, but it’s too great a risk for the Department to take.  I went through all the Auror training except for the field work and my job is to basically interrogate witches and wizards who are brought in.  Some are witnesses, others suspects.  Some are criminals, but I have to find out the whole story.  The Ministry has such strict laws on the use of Veritaserum that people like me are important ... I find out the truth when no one else can.’

            ‘I was questioned by one of you once.’

            ‘Oh,’ said Ginny, feeling foolish all over again, ‘right.  Of course.  Is that why you’re here?  To check in with the Ministry?’

            ‘No,’ said Draco.  ‘I’m here because my wife died.’

            ‘You – what?  Draco, I’m so sorry.  I wouldn’t have come if I’d know—’

            ‘Why not?  Don’t answer that.’  He took the rest of his drink.  ‘She died almost six months ago.  I didn’t want to stay in Sicily any longer.  This is the only other place I know.  It’s close to the Ministry and a few business acquaintances I have made.’

            ‘Business?’

            ‘Investments of ... funds.’

            Ginny didn’t want to know.  Whatever it was, it probably bordered on illegal if it wasn’t completely against the law.  But, really, that didn’t surprise her.  She did think he might try to be more careful now that he was an ex-con – an ex-con with a child.  Ginny had to close her eyes for a moment to try and get a grip over the fact that Draco was _married_.  It didn’t seem real.  He was married before, made love to someone else and produced a child with her.

            ‘What happened to your wife?’ asked Ginny, the curiosity about to make her explode.

            ‘There was an eruption on Mount Etna.  She was there collecting samples of ash for a potion when ...  You can guess the rest, I don’t need to retell it.’

            ‘Tell me about her?’ Ginny chewed on her lower lip for a moment before adding, ‘Please?’

            ‘Like what?’

            ‘What was her name?’

            ‘Annabelle.’

            ‘How old was she?’

            ‘Twenty-four.’

            Ginny sighed.  So young.  ‘When did you get married?’

            ‘A year and a half ago.’

            ‘Oh.’  Ginny’s mind thought back to Paige.  The girl definitely looked older than a year and a half—

            ‘She was pregnant when we got married,’ said Draco as if reading Ginny’s thoughts.  ‘She told me she was pregnant with Paige.  It was her initial idea to get married, but anything to keep the pureblood lines going.  Her father is a retired Minister for Magic.  He quit after two years, but he has all the ties and a lot of power.’

            ‘I can’t imagine you with someone who didn’t have any.’

            Draco tilted his head to the side ever so slightly and regarded her.  She didn’t have a lot of power and yet he had been with her; what drove her to make such a statement?  Ginny had no idea.

            ‘So, how old is Paige?’

            ‘She turned two last week.’

            ‘She talks well.  Bill’s sons still use baby words.’

            ‘Paige is clever.  She’s definitely a Slytherin, though.  There’s no doubt about that.  She’s cunning, but very sweet.  I’m going to take a wild guess and say that you don’t have any children?’

            ‘God, no,’ said Ginny and immediately regretted it.  ‘I wouldn’t mind them one day, but not now.  I don’t have any, no.’

            Draco sniggered.

            ‘How long were you with Annabelle?’

            ‘Oh, Gin, I don’t know.’

            ‘She had red hair.’

            Draco nodded.  ‘Yes,’ he said, although Ginny barely heard it.

            ‘Is there a reason?’

            ‘How many wizards have you been with since the last time you came to me?’ 

            ‘I don’t know.’

            ‘Yes, you do.’

            ‘Do you want to know how many I’ve dated or how many I’ve taken to my bed?’

            ‘Either,’ said Draco.  ‘Both.’

            ‘I’ve dated too many men to count, but I’ve only been with four of them.’

            ‘Were they blondes?’

            ‘No,’ said Ginny darkly.  ‘None of them were.  I think I’ll take that other drink now.’

            Draco got up and refilled their glasses with dark liquor.  He leaned back against the bar, facing Ginny, holding both glasses loosely in his hands.  ‘I moved back to Sicily in August.  I met Annabelle in September two years later.  If that answers your question.’

            ‘Did you love her?’

            ‘No.  Yes.  Maybe I did.  I don’t know.’

            ‘She had _red_ hair, Draco.’

            ‘I was aware.  None of the men you fucked were blonde.’

            Ginny stood up.  ‘That’s because none of them were you and I didn’t want to be reminded of you when I slept with them.  I had a hard enough time keeping my eyes open so I wouldn’t imagine it was you instead of them.’

            ‘I always saw you.  The shade of her hair was exactly like yours.’

            

            ‘So, in essence, you married me.’

            ‘I suppose you could say that.’

            ‘But you said we couldn’t be together.’

            ‘She came without a family who hated me.’

            ‘You were in prison.’

            ‘The Italian Ministry is just as corrupt as the British Ministry was.  You already know my father used money to bribe Fudge.  Annabelle’s family are purebloods.  They do not take lightly to Muggles, Muggle-lovers, half-breeds, or—’

            ‘They’re the Malfoys, only with different last names.’

            Draco nodded.  ‘Her father’s side.  Her mother was from France.  Very different.  I never met them. Just heard stories.’

            ‘If I told you that after every date I dreamt about you, would you believe me?’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘What if I told you that I think I’m still in love with you, even though I haven’t seen you in almost eight years?’

            ‘Don’t say something like that if you’re not prepared to follow through with it,’ said Draco warningly.

            ‘My _father_ told me you were here.  He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t think we belonged together.’

            ‘No?’

            Ginny shook her head.  ‘No.  Don’t you think that’s a sign?’

            ‘I dropped Divination.  It was right rubbish, so don’t ask me if I think that’s a sign, because the answer is going to be no.’

            ‘I think it’s a sign,’ said Ginny, pretending she hadn’t heard Draco.  ‘I’m twenty-five, not seventeen.  I’m prepared to tell my family to sod off if we try again.’

            ‘Are you prepared to lose them?’

            ‘I won’t,’ said Ginny confidently.  ‘I might have to prove that you’re good and deserving of me.  I think Mum would be the hardest to convince, but I’m willing to do it.’

            ‘This isn’t a game this time.  This would be serious.’

            ‘I know.  I’m tired of looking for the right person.  I need to be happy, Draco, and I’m not.  I’ve been happier standing here, looking at you, than I’ve been in years.’

            ‘You know what I’m like.  I haven’t changed.’

            ‘I made a promise to you once,’ said Ginny.  ‘I said I wouldn’t change you then and I don’t plan on trying now.’ 

            Draco put the glasses down on the bar and went to a bookshelf.  He pulled a book down and opened it up.  He seemed to hesitate for several moments before taking some parchment out of the books and handing them to Ginny.

            ‘What’s this?’ she asked, confused.  She unfolded the papers and her breath hitched painfully.  They were the letters she wrote him while he was in Azkaban.  ‘You didn’t burn them.’

            ‘No.’

            ‘So you _did_ read them.’

            Draco nodded.

            ‘And you did my detention for me as well.’

            He nodded again.

            ‘Thank you for showing me these.’  She handed them to Draco who took them and put them back between the pages of the old-looking book.

            ‘Do you have a flatmate?’

            ‘Yes,’ answered Ginny, furrowing her brow slightly.

            ‘Will she get upset if you don’t come home tonight?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘Good.’

            They stood and looked at one another for a split second.  Ginny wasn’t sure if she moved or if Draco moved, but somehow they were together, melded together, kissing with a passion that had built up over the years, only now being released.

            Draco pulled his head back, but his body was still against hers and she was more aware of every centimetre of his body than she’d ever been aware of anyone before. 

            ‘I love you,’ he said.

            The words hit Ginny hard in the gut.  He’d never said those words to her face-to-face.  The closest he came was snapping, ‘ _You know I fucking love you_ ,’ after she pressured him to admit it.  The look on his face told her everything she needed to know and she kissed him hard and long.

XXXXXXX

            ‘And then you danced in the ballroom after your wedding!  Just like in the fairy tale!’

            ‘It wasn’t so much a wedding as an elopement with just my family there.  No friends, no children.  Just Mum, Dad, and my brothers and Hermione.’

            ‘Again, again!  Tell me again!’

            Ginny shook her head.  ‘No.’  She shut the leather-bound journal and placed it back inside the drawer of her bedside table.  ‘Paige is going to be very upset when she finds out that I’ve told you the story without her here.  She likes the story, too.’  

            ‘It’s Paige’s own fault.  She left me here all by myself!’

            ‘She didn’t _leave_ you,’ said Ginny gently.  ‘She turned eleven.  It was time for her to go to school.  You’ll be there in four years.  And then the twins will wonder why _you’ve_ left _them_.’

            ‘Papa, make Mummy tell the story again.’

            Ginny looked up.  Draco entered their bedroom with a tired look on his face.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to untie his shoes.

            ‘I think you’ve heard the blasted story enough for seven lifetimes, Sissy.  Go to bed.’

            ‘But, _Papa_!’

            Ginny couldn’t help but smile at her seven-year-old daughter.  Her hair was light red, almost a strawberry-blonde, and she had the same demanding temperament Ginny had had when she was a little girl.  There was a rather large fight over what her name was going to be and Ginny only relented to naming her after Draco’s mother on two conditions.  One, she was never _ever_ to be referred to as Narcissa.  And two, Ginny got to name every other child they ever had.  Draco agreed.  Truthfully, Ginny hadn’t minded too much.  After all, his mother died trying to save him; it was the least Ginny could do because without her sacrifice, her daughter wouldn’t be here.  It was a good compromise because two years later Ginny gave birth to twins and named them Chares and Fredrick respectfully.  She had never seen her mother cry so hard.

            ‘Tuck me in,’ Sissy said, standing up on the bed and draping her arms around Draco’s neck.

            ‘Fine.’  He stood up and turned his head to look back at Ginny.  ‘I’ll be back.’

            Ginny snuggled down into the covers.  It was uncharacteristically cold outside for September and it was making the house seem like ice.  The thick blankets were warm and Ginny felt as though she never wanted to get out of bed.

            ‘That girl is going to drive me mad one of these days.’

            Ginny laughed.  ‘You give her whatever she wants.’

            ‘Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?’  Draco took off his shirt.  ‘Lock the door, will you?’

            Ginny reached over and grabbed her wand from the bedside table.  She pointed it at the door.  ‘ _Colloportus_.’  A loud squelching sound echoed in the room.  ‘Planning on being loud?’

            ‘Too tired now,’ said Draco, pulling on a pair of silk pyjama bottoms.  ‘But in the morning ...’  He reached for the top, but Ginny stopped him.

            ‘You look sexier with just the bottoms.’

            Draco snorted and climbed into bed.  ‘Good, you’ve warmed it up.  It’s fucking cold out there.’

            ‘You really need to stop saying those words in front of the twins.  Charlie made up a rhyme about the word “fuck” and sang it all day.’

            ‘He has your hair and my sense of humour.’

            ‘What sense?’

            ‘Ho, ho.’  Draco turned over on his side, draping an arm over Ginny’s middle and kissing her shoulder.

            ‘I thought you said you were too tired tonight?’

            ‘I am,’ said Draco, yawning.  ‘Your bloody mother and her Wednesday night dinners.  “It’s past their bedtimes, Mum, I need to get them home.  Oh, _no_ , Draco, you stay here and finish your pudding,”’ he mimicked.

            ‘I’m sorry.’

            ‘Your mother talked to me for an hour.  I have nothing to say to her.  She doesn’t like me so I think she kept me there to torture me.  And what a brilliant form of torture that was.  Leaving someone with their in-laws alone.’

            Ginny laughed.

            ‘Please tell me you leave out the parts of me marrying Paige’s mother because she looked like you.’

            ‘I always skip over that.  Paige calls me “Mum” now anyway.  She asks me to tell her the story of how we met and got together.  And whenever Paige and Sissy ask to hear the story, I always skip the gratuitous sex bits as well.  And the torture part.  I say that you were ordered to kill me and that’s it.’

            ‘No wonder Sissy thinks it’s such a fairy tale.  I should give her the old German stories – there’s a book in the library.’

            ‘Don’t you dare!’ warned Ginny.  ‘Those stories are gruesome.  Grim, indeed.  Grim, Grimm, ha-ha.’

            ‘It _is_ a good story, I suppose.’

            

            ‘It’s a fantastic story.’

            ‘I suppose I should thank you for writing it down so that when we’re old and pissing ourselves we can read it and remember.’

            ‘I wrote it because I like remembering in general,’ said Ginny.  ‘Not for the future, but I suppose it works that way as well.’

            Draco yawned again.

            ‘Go to sleep,’ said Ginny, brushing his hair away from his face.

            ‘The house is quiet without Paige here.’

            ‘I know.  Imagine, in six years all four of them will be at Hogwarts and the house will be empty and quiet for an entire year.’

            ‘Let’s speed up time now.’

            ‘Draco!’

            ‘Don’t shriek in my ear!  What’s wrong with you?’

            ‘Wrong with me?  I married a moody man.’

            Draco snorted, but it wasn’t long before that snort turned into a soft snore.  Ginny smiled to herself again.  They bickered all the time, but even while fighting, she was never happier.  While he used to sleep no more than a couple hours at a time, Draco was falling asleep quickly and sleeping the entire night through.  He never mentioned it, but Ginny felt it was because for once everything felt right with him.  Occasionally Ginny couldn’t keep herself awake, but usually she waited for Draco to fall asleep first so she could say to him what he spent saying to her during their time in Sicily.  

            She’d whisper, ‘I love you,’ in his ear as he slept.  Sometimes she got the feeling that Draco was only pretending to be asleep so that he could hear her say it because as she herself drifted off she could hear, ‘I love you, too,’ echoing in her head.

XXXXXXX

The End ...

XXXXXXX

 


End file.
